The Road to Destiny
by shazzablue
Summary: Two extraordinary women dropped into a realm of legend to fulfil their destiny. Legolas/OFC, Aragorn/OFC (Unfinished)
1. Prologue

Author's Note:  
  
I love Lord of the Rings and this story is in no way, shape, or form meant to detract from the beautiful story and characters created by JRR Tolkien and brought so amazingly to life by Peter Jackson and his fantastic crew. I truly apologize to them both because I know that Mr. Tolkien would be spinning in his grave if he saw what I'd done to his characters, and Mr. Jackson would probably die of a heart attack. That said, I do not (nor will I ever) own any of the Lord of the Rings characters contained within (but I promise I won't hurt them too much). Fiona and Brenna Donovan, however, belong to me and my Sis, Arien (who has generously given me permission to use her as co-author and creative consultant)  
  
A little bit of what you need to know:  
  
Since this is fan fic and very few people would like to read me trying to expound upon this world that my Sis and I have shaped around so many of the things we love, here's a little cheat sheet to bring you up to speed so you might enjoy the story better. Believe me, we've been working on this since the Fellowship of the Ring came out last December. We've got a LOT OF CRAP you don't want to read LOL.  
  
This 'realm' takes some from the books, some from the movie, and some from several other places (including, but not limited to Arthurian legend, Greek Mythology, Dr. Who, and a whole bunch of other crap we made up or just happened to like)  
  
Deviations from the LOTR Books/Movies:  
  
Boromir didn't die and is now Aragorn's lieutenant  
  
Aragon is king of Gondor, and has been for about 10 years now, but he has a wanderlust that won't allow him to stay in Gondor for too long, so Faramir is steward while he is gone  
  
Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas like to jaunt about the woods, looking for bad things  
  
Arwen is missing, presumed dead, for about 5 years now  
  
Elrond is still Lord of Rivendell  
  
Galadriel and Celeborn are still Lady and Lord of Lothlorien and have not yet gone to the Undying Lands  
  
Thranduil is still King of Mirkwood  
  
Gimli is married and is now King of Durin's Folk in Erebor  
  
Gandalf and Merlin are two different incarnations of the same Timelord  
  
Valinor (the Undying Lands) and Avalon are the same place  
  
Galadriel is the Lady of the Lake  
  
Excalibur and Narsil are the same sword  
  
Tolkien had been writing The Lord of the Rings as a fictional mythology/history, in this story it IS the far past history, though it has fallen into legend and myth and no one actually believes it ever happened (much like Arthurian Legend and Greek Mythology which are also very real)  
  
There is magic in the world, if you know where to look  
  
Mages and other extraordinary people are governed by the White Council which is made up of Mages/Wizards, Elves, Timelords  
  
Elves, unlike Mages and Timelords, have chosen to remain separated from humans, keeping to themselves on Avalon/Valinor, though they do like to meddle in the kettle so to speak  
  
Also, I have found that trying to write chapter to chapter is SO hard! My Middle Earth muse doesn't really speak to me chapter to chapter but more like scene to scene. But I will at least try to keep the vignettes in chronological order.  
  
SO, if you're not too afraid to read on, I hope you enjoy our humble labor of love.  
  
Sources:  
  
Lord of the Rings - Trilogy by JRR Tolkien  
  
The Encyclopedia of Arda (found at www.glyphweb.com/arda)  
  
Lord of the Rings - Fellowship of the Ring - movie by Peter Jackson 


	2. Wanderer in the Wood

WANDERER IN THE WOOD  
  
Fiona and Brenna Donovan were sisters. Born barely a year apart, there could not have been two more different people, nor could there be two closer. Fiona, at twenty-seven the elder of the sisters, took after her father. Taller than her sister by four inches, she was dark of hair, with gray eyes that looked like the sea after a storm, and had the temperament of the sea as well. Brenna was a year younger, 5'3" with her mother's beautiful red hair, emerald green eyes, and fiery disposition. Through blood and destiny, the girls had inherited more than just their hair or eye color from their parents, though. They had inherited their power as well. The Donovans were mages.   
  
The lives of the Donovan girls did not revolve wholly around magic, though it was as much a part of them as Fiona's music or Brenna's art. The girls lived on Bainbridge Island, just across the sound from Seattle, and taught at a small Fine Arts College on the island. They lived quietly, in a weather beaten cottage on the edge of a cliff overlooking Puget Sound, and no one would have ever thought them to be anything more than they seemed, because most mortals had closed their eyes to the magic that surrounded them. More was the pity.   
  
The night was a fine one, the water from the sound crashing on the rocks below the cottage while a storm brewed in the darkness. Throwing her windows open to hear and smell the coming storm, Fiona Donovan lay down in her bed and prepared to go to sleep. But she felt odd, as if there was something waiting on the air. She didn't care for the feeling, but what was she supposed to do about it? The worst thing was that Brenna had been sent off to New York for a seminar by the Art History Department of the College. Over such a distance, the bond they had between them was diminished, she couldn't hear Brenna, couldn't feel her in her mind, so she was all alone. Not that she wasn't capable of functioning alone, but she missed having her sister around.  
  
As she drifted into sleep that night she could have sworn she heard someone talking, but she could not for the life of her open her eyes. A familiar voice seemed to speak to her. Remember Rivendell. Go to Rivendell. And far in the distance she could hear a sweet voice singing:  
  
Sing all ye joyful now sing all together!  
The wind's in the treetop, the wind's in the heather;  
The stars are in blossom; the moon is in flower,  
And bright are the windows of Night in her tower.  
  
Dance all ye joyful now dance all together!  
Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!  
The river is silver; the shadows are fleeting;  
Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting.  
  
Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave her!  
Wind her in slumber and there let us leave her!  
The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be her pillow!  
Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!  
  
Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!  
Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!  
Fall Moon! Dark be the land!  
Hushed be all water till dawn is at hand!  
  
The odd thing was that the voice was not singing in English, but a language she instinctively recognized, though she did not know it. Still, it seemed to be calling to her, drawing her out and away.  
  
============  
  
The morning was bright when the three companions, Boromir, Aragorn, and Legolas, broke camp and moved out. Bright and very cold for the end of September. Indeed no one remembered such a cold September save for the Elves and then only the oldest. Legolas was near 3 millenia old and even he did not remember it being this cold. Even he was shivering, and cold very seldom affected the 'fair folk' as it did humans.   
  
Boromir pulled his cloak more tightly around him and climbed onto his horse. "It is cold enough to freeze the blood of a man."  
  
Legolas nodded as he grabbed the mane and mounted his own horse. "Indeed, I cannot remember such a cold autumn. I would not turn away a mug of ale this morning to warm my bones."  
  
"A bit early in the morn to be indulging, don't you think, my friend?" Aragorn laughed as he packed the remainder of his gear on Starshadow.  
  
"That may be," Legolas smiled, "but better drunken than frozen I think, though I would rather we had some miruvor, for I am also weary."  
  
"On that we agree," Boromir said gravely, leading his horse to the road.  
  
Aragorn climbed into the saddle and headed his horse down the road. "Then let us make for an inn and we shall have some ale and a warm meal before we continue on our way."  
  
========================  
  
The first thing the woman realized was that it was very cold. She woke and looked around her. Everything felt strange, as if she were still walking in a dream. Looking down at herself she saw that she was wearing breeches tucked into leather laced boots that rose over her calves to her knees and about the left was strapped a bone handled dagger. Over that she wore a thick, white cloth shirt covered by an intricately worked, quilted jerkin, dark blue in color. At her wrists were a pair of heavy leather bracers and on her hands were worn, but still quite warm, riding gloves. Over all this was a warm, fur lined cloak with a hood that fitted tightly to her head.  
  
As she stood and looked at herself, it occurred to her that she was dressed as a man. Why, she had no idea. In fact, truth be told, she could remember nothing, all was a blank, she could not even remember her name, though she tried desperately to do so. After a moment of panic, she felt one slip of memory come back to her. The word Rivendell. Rivendell was a place, and she was on her way there, but why she could not remember. She did know, however, that her path lay to the East.  
  
Looking around the tall tree she had apparently sheltered against the previous night, she saw a beautiful gray horse tethered nearby. And next to where she had lain was a large leather bag and a long sword in a beautifully wrought scabbard. A quick look inside the bag showed nothing but what food she had brought. Nothing as to who she was or what her mission might be. Still, she knew only that she must get to Rivendell.  
  
She had strapped on the sword, finding the weight of it at her hip quite comforting, and had slung her bag over her neck and shoulder, bringing it to rest on her other hip, then she had replaced her heavy cloak and wrapped herself tightly as she saddled the horse and gave him a crust of bread from the bag. He nuzzled her hand and whinnied softly.  
  
She was just getting into the saddle when she heard a noise in the woods behind her. Putting a hand to her sword, she looked around but saw no one. She listened for a few minutes before climbing on her horse and gently heading it toward the road.  
  
Suddenly, springing out of the wood, she was surrounded by men, maliciousness glittering in their eyes. There were more than men, too, now coming from the wood. Creatures the like of which she had never seen before, or if she had she could not remember them, and somehow she believed she would have remembered these monsters.  
  
"What have we here? A tender morsel for our breakfast?" She could not understand the words, but she knew the intent. She knew there would be little hope of fighting them, no hope at all really, so she leaned over her horse, whispering in his ear to run with all his might.  
  
The horse took off with a leap and a cry, running first at the leader of the group then feinting sideways took off down the road at a gallop. She lay low over the horse's head, willing him to move as fast as he could. First she heard the whistle, then she felt the arrow as it hit her in the side. The thick fur of her heavy cloak absorbed most of the impact, but the tip managed to work it's way through the layers of cloth and imbed itself into her side, knocking her off the horse. She landed on the road with a thud, knocking the wind out of her.  
  
The band of men and creatures had nearly reached her by the time she had regained her breath and her feet. Thinking as quickly as she could, she pulled the arrow out of her side and moved into the line of trees, hoping it would slow her attackers.  
  
The wind was cold as it sang through the trees, and it whipped stinging fingers across her face. But even through the cold, she could feel an unnatural warmth spreading from her side where the arrow had pierced her. Though it had not gone deep, the tip had apparently been poisoned and as she ran, the poison worked it's deadly way through her body, slowing her perceptions.  
  
She came at last to a space in the trees where a fell of stones stood. As she looked at them, she realized they were the remains of a standing circle. Perhaps she could find some way to hide, or at least a defendable position, but as she searched around for an entrance, she was fallen upon by one of the creatures.   
  
Pulling her knife from her boot, she managed to wound the creature and moved away from him, keeping her back to the stones, then pulled her sword and made her stand. She would die fighting if she had to die. She let loose an angry yell and charged the fallen orc.  
  
==================  
  
As the trio rode down the road, Legolas stopped suddenly, halting his horse and looking off to the distance in the woods. Aragorn and Boromir had known him long enough to stop and be silent as he listened. Finally, at length, Aragorn asked him. "What do you hear?"  
  
"Off in the distance. The sounds of a struggle." Just then the angry cry broke the air and the horses jumped and whinnied. "There." The elf pointed into the wood. "That way." And he was off.  
  
Boromir and Aragorn followed swiftly behind Legolas and readied themselves for battle. Going quickly through the woods was not easy, but they made it through unharmed, seeing at one point a riderless horse wandering through the tangled bush. They, too, had to abandon their horses, but a quick word from Legolas assured they would stay.  
  
When the three of them arrived at the small clearing, they saw two orcs and a man slain, laying on the now bloody ground but there were half a dozen more circling around a small figure against the rocks. They could not tell whether he was a human boy or an elf, but his fair face was covered in blood and the weariness in him could be seen, even though he still fought bravely with his sword and dagger.   
  
Boromir gave a cry and rushed into the heart of the fight, cleaving two from the pack and fighting them back with his sword. Now that they saw the new threat, three more moved away from the small figure and came toward Aragorn and Legolas, swords in hand. Legolas' bow felled one while Aragorn fought off another. The third went after Aragorn, but even before Legolas could gain a clear shot, Aragorn had cut him down. Taking the opportunity, Legolas shot at the orc moving in on the now nearly still figure against the rocks and shot it through the head. It fell with a sickening thud at the foot of the stones. They turned to help their friend only to find that he had dispatched the two he had taken quickly enough and was now heading toward the small figure leaning against the wall.  
  
The woman lifted her sword when she saw the man coming toward her. She didn't know if she had been saved or if she had only been delivered from one band of devils to be given to another. She tried to lift the hand with her dagger but she could not. Blood was flowing down the arm from a deep slashing wound in her upper arm and dripped from the end of the dagger onto the dry leaves under her feet. "Stay back," she said, her voice was becoming slurred, "don't come any closer." But from the looks on their faces, they couldn't understand her anyway. Breathing heavily through her mouth since her swelling nose was full of blood where one of the creatures had hit her, she watched warily as the other two moved in.   
  
Boromir was frowning. "I do not understand the language, do either of you recognize it?" He showed the wounded boy that he was putting his sword away.  
  
Aragorn shook his head and put away his own sword. "The tongue is strange to me, but he is obviously not convinced we are friends. Legolas, is he an elf?"  
  
"His clothes are strange to me, as is the tongue he speaks. He moves like an elf, but then again not. Perhaps I can try to talk to him." Legolas moved forward, his hands outstretched, palms up, showing his intent of friendship. He spoke in the Sindarin Elven tongue. "Peace, my friend. I am Legolas of Mirkwood. We mean only to help you."  
  
The woman watched as the golden haired elf came forward, as she watched it seemed he began to glow with a white light that flowed out from him like a river. She did not understand what he was saying, but she knew that he meant her no harm. If she had been able, she would have wrapped herself in the warmth flowing from him. Slowly she lowered her sword, the dagger fell from her numb fingers and she slid down the stones, coming to a hard rest on the forest floor.   
  
Legolas went forward swiftly, a frown on his face, and knelt beside the fallen defender. "He is gravely injured. Aragorn, have you your healing herbs?"  
  
"Yes, but we must get him back to the horses." Aragorn came forward and tried to help but the young defender shied away. "We cannot help you if you will not allow us to."  
  
The words were so much jibberish, but the fuzzy darkness was closing in quickly. They had saved her from the marauding band, and she could believe there was no ill will within the golden haired one. She would have to trust them. Loosing her hold on her sword, she held her hands out and nodded at the dark one kneeling next to her.  
  
"I believe he understands we mean him no harm now." Aragorn looked over to Boromir. "Boromir, gather his weapons." He put his arm under his shoulders and started to help him up. "Legolas, can you take him while I go get my pack?"  
  
Legolas put an arm around the small figure and meant only to help him walk, but his legs seemed to fail him and Legolas had to scoop him up, though the child was no heavier than a feather.  
  
Boromir came beside the elf as they made their way back through the wood. "His weapons are very fine, do you think he is a young prince? Or perhaps a messenger from a rich kingdom we do not know?"  
  
Legolas frowned, there was something odd about his burden, though he could not quite place what it was. "I do not know. Perhaps. But there is something strange afoot here."   
  
When they made it back to the horses, Aragorn had already made a small fire and had steeped some of the healing herbs in a bowl of boiling water. "Lay him down, Legolas, and help me find his wounds. Look for an arrow wound, because I believe he has been hit by a poisoned tipped arrow." He turned to Boromir who was laying down the weapons. "Boromir, see if his horse will trust you. We will most likely have to tether him to one of our horses and carry the boy with one of us."  
  
As Boromir went off, a piece of apple in his hand, to befriend the nervous horse, Legolas and Aragorn sat about trying to find and bind the strange young man's wounds. Legolas loosed the clasp of the cloak and pushed it back, and when he did a long spill of raven hair was revealed. For the first time they seemed to notice soft curve of her breasts under the heavy jerkin. "It's a woman."  
  
Aragorn frowned. "What is a woman doing riding in the woods alone? And dressed as a man?" He shook his head. "It matters not. We still must find the wounds. Observe modesty as much as you may, but her life comes before her modesty and we must find the poisoned wound."  
  
The wound to her arm was easily enough found, cleaned, and bound. There was nothing to be done for her nose, save to clean her face and put a poultice of herbs on her cheek and temple where the blow had first fallen. There was so much blood, however, it took a few minutes before they found the minute hole where the arrow had entered her side, coming actually from the back. "Here, I have found it," Legolas said, gently turning her on her side. The deep blue of the jerkin had concealed the blood and the hole was small.   
  
Unlacing the stays of the jerkin, they loosened it enough to pull it up. Underneath the white shirt was soaked red with blood and beneath that they found a blackening wound. "The poison is strong, and deeper than it would seem. Give me your dagger, Legolas."  
  
The elf pulled out a small, sharp, silver dagger and held it out to the once Ranger who was now King. The silver itself would help to neutralize the poison. He hoped they were not too late as he cut deep into the flesh and an angry black liquid flowed from the wound. "We must wash it clean. I will need more water before I use the herbed water on the wound."  
  
Legolas sprang up and quickly gathered the three skins of water from their horses and the one from the woman's horse, that Boromir now had calmed and was holding close to their own. He returned and knelt down next to Aragorn. "If this is not enough I will go in search of a clear spring."  
  
Aragorn was grave when he looked up. "If this is not enough, then no amount of clear water will help, my friend."  
  
Legolas held the dagger in the wound to keep it from closing while they tried to wash out the foul poison. It took almost all of the water they had, but finally the blood flowed red and healthy and Legolas was able to remove the dagger from the wound. "Do you think your healing herbs will help her?"  
  
"I can only hope they will. I will pour this in the wound and we will bind it, but we must find some clear water so that I can make a draught for her to drink."  
  
"I will go," Boromir said as he gathered the water skins. He smiled at his friends, he was more handing in fighting than in the healing afterward. "I have naught else to do."  
  
Aragorn stood up. "Can you bind the wound, Legolas? I need to find some more herbs, these are dry and it would be better if I could find some fresh."  
  
Legolas nodded. "I can." He tore a clean strip of cloth from his own undertunic and laid it over the wound then bound it around her waist with another strip of cloth torn from her ruined shirt. He was just settling her, as comfortably as he could, onto her cloak and wrapping it about her when she began to stir.  
  
The world was all shapes and light but no real form as she opened her eyes. She could see a fair face framed by golden hair looking down at her, and she smiled. "Is this still a dream, or have I died? Are you an angel?"  
  
Legolas was frowning. He was glad to see that she was waking, but he wished he could understand what she was saying. He looked down at her and tried the old Elven tongue. "Who are you?" There was something about her that seemed so familiar and yet not.  
  
She blinked for a moment as her mind began to swim. All the details of the fight were floating in her mind, a myriad of pain and blood, but one thing came forward clearly. Rivendell. She reached out, groping for the elf, Legolas he had called himself, and found his hand. She held it tightly, willing him to understand her. "Take me to Rivendell, Legolas." For a moment she held his gaze with hers, holding tightly to his hand, praying he would understand. "Take me to Rivendell, Legolas, I must go to Rivendell." Then the world spun about her again and all was dark.  
  
Boromir came up behind Legolas, the skins hanging over his shoulder. He saw the strange look on the elf's face and saw that he was holding tightly to the woman's hand. "What is it, my friend? You look as if you have just seen a ghost."  
  
The fair elf looked up at Boromir. "Did you hear her?"  
  
The tall man shook his head. "No. I heard nothing but the rustling of the leaves."  
  
"She spoke to me."  
  
Aragorn walked out of the woods, frowning. "She spoke? Was she using a tongue you know?"  
  
Legolas shook his head. "No. The words I still do not understand, but she also spoke to my mind."  
  
"A witch?" Boromir asked, moving slightly back from the prone body of the woman.  
  
"I do not know what she is, but I know she is more than she seems." Legolas was visibly shaken, something that did not often happen.  
  
"And what did she say?" Aragorn asked as he set about the task of boiling a draught for her.  
  
"She asked, no begged, me to take her to Rivendell."  
  
"Then to Rivendell we will go," Aragorn said. "Surely Elrond might give us some counsel, and she could use his healing as well."  
  
"What are we to call her?" Boromir asked as he handed the skins to Aragorn. "Perhaps we should call her Rana, wanderer."  
  
  
Author's Note:  
The song - The Elves' Lullabye - is from The Hobbit, the only thing changed is that it is being sung to a 'her' instead of a 'he' 


	3. Awakening in Rivendell

AWAKENING IN RIVENDELL  
  
The world was bright shapes of light as the girl began to awaken from her slumber. As it became more in focus, she could see she was in some sort of bedroom. Soft light filtered through a wall of windows on one side and a warm fire was crackling in the fireplace on the other. Her vision began to swim as she sat up, but it soon passed and she was able to sit with her back against the intricately carved headboard of the large bed.   
  
As she looked about the room, she was in awe of its beauty. Decorated in soft shades of green and gold sprinkled about with pale pink it looked like something out of a dream. Suddenly the memory of what had happened came swirling back in a sickening rush. Putting a hand to her back, she realized she was no longer wearing her clothes but an intricately embroidered gown the same pale pink as the pillows scattered about the room.  
  
"Where am I?" she wondered. A name flashed through her mind. Rivendell. And then the image of a beautiful, golden haired man. Ethereal like an angel, she thought. Elf, her mind automatically corrected. "Legolas," she said the name aloud. But was he real or just some dream? And if he wasn't, how did she get here?  
  
Deciding to risk it, she threw back the heavy covers and put her feet on the floor. It was cool, but not as cold as she had expected. When she stood, she had to hold onto the bed to keep from falling, but holding onto the bed, and the chair sitting next to it, she made her way to the windows.  
  
The view was breathtaking. Surely she must be dreaming for no place could be this beautiful. Everywhere she looked there were waterfalls and streams. Trees covered with brightly colored leaves. Houses and buildings that seemed at once alien and as if they belonged there. If it were a dream she would be content to sleep there forever.  
  
Opening one of the door windows, she stepped out onto the terrace and drank in the cool autumn air. She still had no memory of who she was or where she had come from, but at this moment it didn't seem to matter overmuch.  
  
As she stood there, listening to the water as it gurgled in the stream close by and rushed over the waterfalls in the distance, she heard the sound of singing being carried on the wind. Angelic voices singing in a language she didn't understand. As she listened to the words drifting on the air, she heard another voice in her mind. Echoes of a song filled her head. She could hear it in her language and then in the language of the Elves. She closed her eyes and grasped hold of the words. She sang then, first a whisper then her voice rose and she could feel the music flowing through her.  
  
Sing all ye joyful now sing all together!  
The winds in the treetop, the wind's in the heather;  
The stars are in blossom; the moon is in flower,  
And bright are the windows of Night in her tower.  
  
Dance all ye joyful now dance all together!  
Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!  
The river is silver; the shadows are fleeting;  
Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting.  
  
Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave her!  
Wind him in slumber and there let us leave her!  
The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be her pillow!  
Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!  
  
Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!  
Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!  
Fall Moon! Dark be the land!  
Hushed be all water till dawn is at hand!  
  
She sang it in both the Elvish tongue and her own, tears rolling down her cheeks. This was the first thing she understood in the strange, lyrical language and it felt good to know she was not so completely lost.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Legolas was passing on his way to check on the sleeping wanderer, Rana Boromir had named her, one of the many names of the Moon which was also called the wanderer. He didn't think the name quite fit, though he supposed they had to call her something. That is, provided she ever awoke. It had been nearly five days since they had brought her to Rivendell and in all that time she showed no sign of stirring.   
  
As he climbed the steps that would take him to her room, he heard a voice he had not heard before. Stopping halfway through his climb, he cocked his head to the side and listened. The voice was coming from the direction of Rana's room, but it was singing in Elvish. Then he listened a moment longer and realized the same song was being sung in Rana's odd tongue. Quickening his pace, he ran up the steps and found her standing on her terrace, leaning against the railing, her eyes closed.  
  
"Rana, you have wakened," Legolas smiled. "This is glad news indeed."  
  
The girl was startled out of her song by the male voice behind her. She turned quickly, gasping when she saw him standing there. She could not understand what he was saying, but knew he was speaking to her. Her hand fluttered to her throat. "You are real. Or are you just a part of this dream I am walking in?" She walked forward a bit, until she was within arms length of him. She reached a shaking hand out to him and he held out his own, taking her hand in his larger one. When she felt him, knew he was solid and real, she could feel tears begin streaming down her face. "You are real." Between the exertion and the shock of realizing her 'angel' was in fact real, she felt the world reeling and her legs gave out from under her.  
  
Though he couldn't understand what she was saying, he could see that she was happy to see him for some reason. An odd feeling pooled in his chest and he found he was glad of her reaction. He was also glad he was standing close to her so that when she swooned he was able to catch her up in his arms and carry her back to her room. Laying her gently down on the soft bed and covering her with the warm blankets, he couldn't help reaching out to brush her dark hair from her face before running out to find Elrond. 


	4. Breaking the Spell

Author's Note: Ok, remember I told you that I don't always think in linear terms, well this is an example of that. I've tried and tried to write the events between her waking up in Rivendell and this scene. It just ain't happenin'! Basically what has happened is that Rana, now called Tinuviel, has learned the Elven language and has begun singing with the elves. She had no way of knowing (since her memory is shot) that she has the ability to enchant men with her voice through her singing. Since she feels strongly toward Boromir, Aragorn, and Legolas because they saved her, they are the unfortunate recipients of this unusual ability. As a result, the three of them have become enamored of our intrepid heroine. The only problem is, that while she cares for Aragorn and Boromir, she has lost her heart to Legolas. When Elrond figures out exactly what has happened with her inadvertent enchantment, she realizes that she must release them from the spell, even though it means that the love she thought Legolas' felt for her will be dispelled and once they find out that they'd been under her spell, she may never regain it again.  
  
BREAKING THE SPELL:  
  
Tinuviel looked down into the bowl of clear water sitting on the rock next to her, trying to imagine the images of Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas as Elrond had told her to do. Suddenly they were there. "It's working," she gasped in amazement, "I can see them."  
  
Elrond smiled, he seemed pleased, he had known she held the power within her. "Now you must concentrate very carefully to keep their images in the water as you speak the words of the spell."  
  
Tinuviel took a breath and licked her lips. This was not an easy thing he asked of her, she could feel her forehead breaking out into a cold sweat as she focused all her energy into the still water. "Let their eyes see truth, let their ears hear truth, let their hearts feel truth. Let their minds know I wish them no hurt. And let my heart know which path it should take." Releasing a breath, the images began to fade. "The spell is broken," she whispered, then the images were gone. She breathed heavily, suddenly weary.  
  
Elrond smiled at her added line. "Does not your heart already know the path it would choose?"  
  
"Perhaps I should have asked instead for wisdom, or that my heart should not love at all instead of loving someone who does not truly love me." She sighed and looked up at Elrond. "Is there not some spell that I might not love in vain?"  
  
"In vain?" he frowned thoughtfully, "why do you say so?"  
  
"Because I now know that whatever feelings Legolas might have shown for me were not his own but merely an effect of this inadvertent enchantment. I would not have him that way, truly," she wanted Elrond to know how badly she felt about the spell, even if she hadn't meant to cast it. She turned then to look down into the softly burbling water of the spring. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes then escaped to flow unfettered down her cheeks. "But I would rather that it had been true." She wiped angrily at the tears. "A better spell might have been for me to forget him altogether."  
  
Elrond sat beside her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Do not trouble yourself. Legolas is nearing 3000 and I believe that what he feels for you is a puzzlement to him. But I also believe you will find that, now the enchantment is broken, he will be able to more clearly see what it is that his heart does want, and I think you will find that his feelings were not all due to the enchantment." He gave her shoulder a light squeeze and stood to go. "Remember, Tinuviel, Elves are not as hasty as others of the speaking races. Be patient, give him time. As long as our lives are, it is possible that an Elf may love but once in his lifetime. Our hearts are precious to us, a gift we do not easily give." He turned to go and Tinuviel watched him walk regally away.  
  
Author's Note:  
  
I know this is short. Sorry about that, but this is just a stepping stone forward into their lives so I can get on with the larger bulk of the story. (I might come back and add more to this part of it if I can get inspired) 


	5. Stars Snow and Singing

Author's Note: This is another stepping stone which I feel are needed because I really want to get on with the story and Elves apparently move like MOLASSES IN JANUARY! I mean, I realize that it's a lot more 'realistic' that they be moving slowly and all that, but no one really wants to read a year's worth of 'Nice morning' and 'would you like to take a walk by the river' LOL (I mean it, that boy is slow LOL) ANYWAY Tinuviel and Legolas have been treading lightly around each other. Tinuviel has been avoiding him whenever possible, Legolas has been trying to work out his feelings. Tinuviel has worked through that song enchantment thing, but she normally doesn't sing around Legolas for general principle. I think that pretty much brings you up to speed ;-D OH! And, as always, my humble thanks to my Beta/Sis LadyArien!  
  
STARS, SNOW, AND SINGING:  
  
Tinuviel lay wrapped in her cloak on the snow covered ground, looking up at the winter stars and wondering if they were the same wherever she called home. The edge of a memory came to her, a ghost of a tune floating on the air. She frowned as she concentrated hard, trying to remember it.  
  
Bring me a star that has fallen from the sky  
  
To lay in my lady's hand.  
  
Stay time in it's flight, keep tomorrow from this night.  
  
But time it does fly, and stars do not fall.  
  
Try as she might, the rest of the song would not come. She wanted to cry, but the tears would have probably frozen on her face. She could feel the cold leaching through the heavy leather and fur wrappings. There were so many things she didn't remember, but one thing she did remember was that she hated being cold. She was just about to rouse herself from the ground and take her frozen body to warm it by the fire when a voice broke into her thoughts. "The stars are not likely to move in the near future."  
  
Gasping, she sat up and looked toward the direction of the voice. "Who is there?" she asked, the lyrical Elvish language beginning to become second nature to her now. The tall, lithe figure came out of the trees, moving silently over the crisp snow.  
  
"I am sorry, Tinuviel, I did not mean to startle you. I heard you singing. It has been long since you have graced us with your voice." Legolas stopped next to her and offered her his hand to help her up. When she did not take it, he pulled his hand back under his cloak, ridiculously thin in comparison to hers in Tinuviel's way of thinking. "Are you not cold sitting there in the snow?"  
  
"A bit," she smiled, self consciously and looked back at the sky. "I was just watching the stars." She looked back at Legolas, an infinitely earnest look on her face. "What are their names?"  
  
He looked at her, his expression a mix of amusement and confusion. "All of them?"  
  
Her eyes turned skyward again, trying to blink back the tears that threatened to spill. "One of them, ten of them, anything." She took a shaking breath. "I cannot remember what the sky over my home looks like, but I know that I loved to look at it." She closed her eyes, trying to remember the placement of the constellations. "I can remember a man with dark hair laying on the beach next to me and telling me the names of the constellations." She blinked at the memory. "But I cannot see the sky."  
  
Without a sound, Legolas drew his cloak tightly around himself and sat cross-legged on the snow next to her. "See there," his long arm reached toward the sky as he pointed to a grouping of stars nearly directly overhead. "The three bright stars in a row? That is the belt of Menelvagor, the Swordsman of the Sky." He looked at her as she watched the sky, her face pale in the moonlight framed by the darkness of her cloak. "If you look above and below that you can make out the shape of a warrior. See the bright red star, that is his shoulder and that star is called Borgil."  
  
She smiled as she easily picked out the constellation, as if she knew it already, there was something so familiar about it. A smile lit her face. "I see it," there was wonder in her face  
  
He liked the smile that lit her face, and his heart warmed and sped in its beating.  
  
"Tell me more," she urged, quietly.  
  
He pointed to the north. "Those seven stars, that is the Valarcirca, the Sickle of Valar. Varda set that in place as a warning to Morgoth, the first Dark Lord." Moving his hand just slightly south, he pointed toward a bright blue star. "And that one is Helliun, it is the brightest of Varda's stars."  
  
"Who was Varda?"  
  
"Varda was the Queen of the Stars, she is the one who set the stars in the sky and taught them to glow. She is also known as Elbereth Gilthoniel."  
  
"Have you any songs for the stars?" Elves, she knew, had at least one song for just about everything in nature.  
  
"The only star song I know is the one of Earendil, and it is more a song of the man than that of the star he became. And, of course, there are the songs of Elbereth herself."  
  
"Will you sing one for me?" she asked in a small, hopeful voice she hardly recognized as her own.  
  
He hesitated for a few moments, and Tinuviel was afraid he might refuse, that she might have offended him in some way. She was glad when he finally answered. "If you wish it. But I am no songmaster." Despite his protests, however, his voice rang clear and true on the crisp winter air. The first part was in a form of Elvish she knew.  
  
Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!  
  
O Queen beyond the Western Seas!  
  
O Light to us that wander here  
  
Amid the world of woven trees!  
  
Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!  
  
Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!  
  
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee  
  
In a far land beyond the Sea.  
  
O stars that in the Sunless Year  
  
With shining hand by her were sown,  
  
In windy fields now bright and clear  
  
We see your silver blossom blown!  
  
O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!  
  
We still remember, we who dwell  
  
In this far land beneath the trees,  
  
Thy starlight on the Western Seas.  
  
As he was singing, he slipped into a form of Elvish she could not quite understand, but that fact did not make it any less enjoyable to listen to. His voice was beautiful and the Elvish tongue was entrancing.  
  
A Elbereth Gilthoniel,  
  
silivren penna míriel  
  
o menel aglar elenath!  
  
Na-chaered palan-díriel  
  
o galadhremmin ennorath,  
  
Fanuilos, le linnathon  
  
nef aear, si nef aearon!  
  
A Elbereth Gilthoniel!  
  
o menel palan-díriel  
  
le nallon sí di'nguruthos!  
  
A tiro nin, Fanuilos!  
  
A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!  
  
silivren penna míriel  
  
o menel aglar elenath!  
  
We still remember, we who dwell  
  
In this far land beneath the trees,  
  
Thy starlight on the Western Seas.  
When he had finished his song, he turned back to Tinuviel and frowned as he saw the glittering tears running down her face and it made his heart ache. "Are you so sad here?" he asked, softly. "If you do not remember your home, could you not make a home here?" He looked out into the distance at a tree swaying in the breeze. "If you wish it, I am certain that Aragorn and Boromir would take you to Gondor, perhaps you would be happier among your own kind," he finished, somewhat sadly.  
  
"I am not unhappy here, far from it, I love Rivendell." She sighed, "I only wish I remembered what my own home was like. Though I admit that the beauty surrounding us here makes me feel very small and insignificant at times and I often feel that I do not truly belong here." She smiled. "I was only crying because the song was so beautiful." *As are you,* she added silently.  
  
Legolas turned slowly back to her, fixing her with his dark gaze. When he spoke, his voice was low, a timbre she had not heard before and it sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. "You are, by far, the most beautiful thing in this valley, save the light of Earendil itself." He reached out and brushed a tear away with the pad of his thumb, leaving a scorching mark on her skin wherever he touched. "You are freezing," he admonished softly, taking her hands in his to warm them.  
  
Still caught in his gaze, she let him take her hands in his own without protest, her heart racing. Where her skin touched his it felt like touching living fire, only that it did not burn. The skin itself was cool, but it seemed a warmth radiated from within him and It warmed her through to her very bones.  
  
Standing, he pulled her up with him. Once she was standing, he released her hands, pulling her cloak tightly around her. He seemed about to say something, but apparently thought better of it, saying instead, "we should take you in by the fire before you are frozen to the marrow." Turning back toward the main house he fell in step beside Tinuviel, allowing her to set a pace that was comfortable for her.  
  
A/N: The first song - Bring Me A Star - is a filk from Cynthia McQuillin; the second one - O' Elbereth - is from JRR Tolkien himself. 


	6. Singing Falls

A/N: Ok, I'm diverging from Tolkien's version of Middle Earth a great deal on this one with regards to the Elves and their culture and practices, but this is a fanfic and not meant to be a photocopy of LOTR. I think the divergence makes a lot of sense and it works with where I wanted the story to go. Ok, that said, this is another jump/leap trying to get closer to the real story - yes there is a real story! I've got a real chapter by chapter story to get to but I couldn't just let everyone drop right into the middle not knowing the characters, who they are and how they got to that place in their lives. You'll notice that I've progressed things quite a bit from the Stars, Snow, and Singing chapter. I suppose this is kind of a songfic, I've included the entire lyrics for Lorenna McKennitt's Lady of Shallott because it works for the scene. Tinuviel is starting to realize that there is something not quite right going on with her, but she's not ready to talk to anyone about it yet and she's got some fear issues going on. As always, thanks to my beta LadyArien.  
  
SINGING FALLS  
  
The woman now known by the elvish name of Tinuviel watched the water crashing over the rocks below the falls. It seemed to her that the water sang out as it shifted and flowed over the rocks worn smooth from ages of rushing water. But even in this place of beauty and light a shadow fell over her soul. Dreams had begun to plague her. At first she believed them to be nothing more than nightmares, but they began to gain form and substance and an emerging pattern that she could not be certain was only a product of her imagination. Looking glasses, even still water, seemed to be gaining a life of their own, reflecting images that mirrored not her face but her dreams. It frightened her, but she could not bring herself to talk of it. Not even Legolas. Only here at the singing falls did she feel truly at peace.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she sighed. The water called to her to join her voice with its own. Moved, she lifted her voice in a song that reflected the two things weighing most heavily on her heart. The language and words were strange to this land, but flowed from her so freely she had no doubt they were her own native tongue. There was no music on hand, no harp, flute, or drum, but she could feel the melody within herself.  
  
On either side of the river lie  
  
Long fields of barley and of rye,  
  
That clothe the world and meet the sky;  
  
And thro' the field the road run by  
  
To many-towered Camelot;  
  
And up and down the people go,  
  
Gazing where the lilies blow  
  
Round an island there below,  
  
The island of Shalott.  
  
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,  
  
Little breezes dusk and shiver  
  
Thro' the wave that runs forever  
  
By the island in the river  
  
Flowing down to Camelot.  
  
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,  
  
Overlook a space of flowers,  
  
And the silent isle embowers  
  
The Lady of Shalott.  
  
Only reapers, reaping early,  
  
In among the bearded barley  
  
Hear a song that echoes cheerily  
  
From the river winding clearly  
  
Down to tower'd Camelot;  
  
And by the moon the reaper weary,  
  
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,  
  
Listening, whispers "'tis the fairy  
  
The Lady of Shalott."  
  
There she weaves by night and day  
  
A magic web with colours gay,  
  
She has heard a whisper say,  
  
A curse is on her if she stay  
  
To look down to Camelot.  
  
She knows not what the curse may be,  
  
And so she weaveth steadily,  
  
And little other care hath she,  
  
The Lady of Shalott.  
  
And moving through a mirror clear  
  
That hangs before her all the year,  
  
Shadows of the world appear.  
  
There she sees the highway near  
  
Winding down to Camelot;  
  
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue  
  
The Knights come riding two and two.  
  
She hath no loyal Knight and true,  
  
The Lady Of Shalott.  
  
But in her web she still delights  
  
To weave the mirror's magic sights,  
  
For often thro' the silent nights  
  
A funeral, with plumes and lights  
  
And music, went to Camelot;  
  
Or when the Moon was overhead,  
  
Came two young lovers lately wed.  
  
"I am half sick of shadows," said  
  
The Lady Of Shalott.  
  
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,  
  
He rode between the barley sheaves,  
  
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,  
  
And flamed upon the brazen greaves  
  
Of bold Sir Lancelot.  
  
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd  
  
To a lady in his shield,  
  
That sparkled on the yellow field,  
  
Beside remote Shalott.  
  
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;  
  
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;  
  
From underneath his helmet flow'd  
  
His coal-black curls as on he rode,  
  
As he rode back to Camelot.  
  
From the bank and from the river  
  
he flashed into the crystal mirror,  
  
"Tirra Lirra," by the river  
  
Sang Sir Lancelot.  
  
She left the web, she left the loom,  
  
She made three paces taro' the room,  
  
She saw the water-lily bloom,  
  
She saw the helmet and the plume,  
  
She looked down to Camelot.  
  
Out flew the web and floated wide;  
  
The mirror cracked from side to side;  
  
"The curse is come upon me," cried  
  
The Lady of Shalott.  
  
In the stormy east-wind straining,  
  
The pale yellow woods were waning,  
  
The broad stream in his banks complaining.  
  
Heavily the low sky raining  
  
Over towered Camelot;  
  
Down she came and found a boat  
  
Beneath a willow left afloat,  
  
And round about the prow she wrote  
  
The Lady of Shalott  
  
And down the river's dim expanse  
  
Like some bold seer in a trance,  
  
Seeing all his own mischance -  
  
With a glassy countenance  
  
Did she look to Camelot.  
  
And at the closing of the day  
  
She loosed the chain and down she lay;  
  
The broad stream bore her far away,  
  
The Lady of Shalott.  
  
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,  
  
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,  
  
Till her blood was frozen slowly,  
  
And her eyes were darkened wholly,  
  
Turn'd to towered Camelot.  
  
For ere she reach'd upon the tide  
  
The first house by the water-side,  
  
Singing in her song she died,  
  
The Lady of Shalott.  
  
Under tower and balcony,  
  
By garden-wall and gallery,  
  
A gleaming shape she floated by,  
  
Dead-pale between the houses high,  
  
Silent into Camelot.  
  
Out upon the wharfs they came,  
  
Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame,  
  
And round the prow they read her name,  
  
The Lady of Shalott.  
  
Who is this? And what is here?  
  
And in the lighted palace near  
  
Died the sound of royal cheer;  
  
And they crossed themselves for fear,  
  
All the Knights at Camelot;  
  
But Lancelot mused a little space  
  
He said, "She has a lovely face;  
  
God in his mercy lend her grace,  
  
The Lady of Shalott."  
  
When she'd finished, she realized she felt drying tears staining her face and reached up with a hand to wipe them away.  
  
"Why do you sing of things make you weep?" The tongue was wholly alien to the song she had been singing, but it was so beautiful that she ached to rush back to her room and translate the words of the song so that all could understand them.  
  
Turning around quickly, she saw the tall elf standing at the base of the small mound of rocks on which she sat. The low voice had startled her because she had been so deeply entranced by her own song. In the time she had been at Rivendell, she had grown accustomed to the ways of the elves and was very rarely caught unawares. She smiled down at him. "I don't know. I felt like singing and this is the song that came to me."  
  
Legolas, dressed in brown and green as was customary among his people, with his long, blonde hair streaming about his shoulders and pulled back from his face with small braids on either side of his slightly pointed ears, mounted the fell of rocks and swiftly climbed them as if gravity had been suspended for him alone. It was wondrous to watch the movements of the elves, so graceful and fluid as if they were illusions of water and air. But it was particularly pleasing to her to watch the archer as he moved up the boulders and came to rest on the small outcropping of grass on which she sat, folding himself down to sit next to her, his long legs reaching out toward the falling water. "What was the song about?"  
  
Tinuviel, as he had named her, shrugged and, drawing her legs up, rested her chin thoughtfully on her raised knees, hugging her legs as she studied the rainbow. "The song is about a woman who could only watch life and could never live it. She was immortal as long as she remained in her island but she could only view life through her windows and the magical mirror that would show her wonderful images of life and love.  
  
Her island was in the midst of the river that flowed to one of the most beautiful of cities, Camelot, but all she could see from her windows was vast fields of grain that went on forever. She lived in a fortress of gray walls, with towers on each of the four corners. It was a foreboding place, but inside there was a beautiful garden and in her room was a loom and the magical mirror showed her the fantastic, colorful whirl of life within the walls of Camelot itself. She wove what she saw through her mirror into a beautiful tapestry. Still, she watched for so long that she began to wish desperately to truly live and to have someone to love.  
  
There was a curse that had been foretold, but she did not know what it was. Her mirror continued to show her images of life and love and one day showed her a man that was beautiful to behold. He was everything the woman ever wished for and she fell instantly in love. Soon she became restless within her walls and the mirror continued to entice her, whispering to her to leave her bower and go to the man, else she invoke the curse.  
  
So she left her protected towers and ventured out into the world. She knew as soon as she had stepped out, however, that the mirror had lied to her and that she would not have the chance to fulfill her love because she had invoked the curse and began to die.  
  
Resigned to her fate, she left her island and sailed off down the river to Camelot, she wrote her name on the prow of the boat, so that they would know her. So that, perhaps, someone would grieve her passing. But when she passed to Camelot all the lords and ladies saw was death, and they feared her. All except for Lancelot, the man she had fallen in love with, who sent up a prayer in her name. The moral being that mirrors do not always tell the truth, and love is not always worth giving your life for."  
  
Tinuviel glanced back over her shoulder and saw that Legolas was also now studying the waterfall. The muscle in his jaw twitched almost imperceptibly and his dark blue, normally warm eyes, were cold. She had angered him. It did not surprise her, but it saddened her. Sighing, she sat back once more against the rock face and let the coolness of the rock seep through her garment and the flesh of her back.  
  
"Now I understand why you chose the song, but not why it brings you to tears. How convenient that you have remembered it now." He turned back to her, anger still flashing cold in his eyes. "If you do not wish to marry me you need only to have told me plainly. There was no need to construct such a story." He started to stand, but she stilled him with a small hand.  
  
"Legolas, I told you the truth. That is the story of the song. I was crying for many reasons that I just cannot put into words, and part of it was because of your proposal yestereve, but not the way that you think." Since he seemed reluctant to look at her, she moved into his line of sight, kneeling before him so that he had no choice but to look at her. "You don't understand. I want to be your wife more than anything in this world, but I will not allow you to forsake your immortal life for me."  
  
His jaw was set, but the coldness, at least, left his eyes. "It is my life and if I choose to become mortal to be with the woman I love then so be it."  
  
She shook her head vehemently and she could feel tears welling in her eyes. "No! No, I won't let you sacrifice your life for me. I'll leave Rivendell and go off into the world alone before I let you do that."  
  
"You would surely die," he said, matter of factly. "You say you want more than anything in the world to be my wife, but you know this is the only way. My father will never consent to the marriage and as long as he is king and I am heir to his throne, I have no choice but to obey him."  
  
"I do, honestly I do. But we don't even know my true name or who I was before you found me. What if once I regain my memory you find that I was not worthy of such a gift? Or perhaps I am married already and it will all have been for naught."  
  
He studied her face for a few moments and could see the fear behind her eyes, as well as something else. A desperate longing, perhaps? For him as she said? He could feel the anger diminishing as he reached out for her, smiling as she willingly folded herself into his embrace. "I have lived a long life, but you are the first woman to have stirred my heart so that it beats hard enough to be heard whenever I gaze on your face or hear your voice." He stroked the long, silken softness of her dark hair and felt himself begin to stir. "And I feel the need for you with a pain that does not diminish."  
  
Tinuviel brushed her cheek against his as she sat back to look at him. There was an earnest, almost pleading look on her face. "You need not marry me to end the pain, if by marriage you must lose your life. I would give myself to you willingly and freely and with joy in my heart for I ache with the want of you." She took both his hands and placed them over her breasts.  
  
He caressed her breasts gently through the soft fabric of her dress before skimming his long fingered hands over her ribs and down to cup her hips, his gaze never leaving hers but burning into her soul until she could feel the moist heat pooling between her thighs. "I will not ask that of you, to throw away your honor."  
  
"Better my honor than your life! And it will not be thrown away but given freely to you. I trust you with it." She lay her hand on his cheek and caressed the smooth skin.  
  
"I do not trust myself with it," he said in a low voice.  
  
"Then if you would not have me outside of a marriage bed I would bind myself to you as your bond-wife for as long as you would have me, and your father could not interfere."  
  
"I cannot ask that of you, it is not the way of men. What if when you regain your memory you regret your choice?" He shook his head. "I cannot ask that of you."  
  
She pressed her hands to his chest. "I could never regret loving you, Legolas, and I hope I would not give you cause to regret loving me."  
  
Time passed as they sat there, looking into each other's eyes, into each other's souls. Each willing the other to concede. Finally Legolas sighed heavily for he knew he could not sway her. "It grows dark. Let us both think on this thing tomorrow, when our heads are clearer. Perhaps we can find our way."  
  
"I will feel no differently tomorrow," she said with conviction. Standing, she turned her back to him and made her way slowly down the rocks. She stopped at the bottom and looked back to see him still sitting there. "Call it stubbornness if you wish, but I will not see you throw your life away. But think on this, I will offer you a compromise. If after one year of being bonded with me you still wish to marry, and if your father will not give you leave to do so," she took a deep breath, "then I will marry you on your terms." She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. "And think on this during this long night. Should you decide to join me in my bed I will welcome you with open arms for I love you. Now if you still believe we cannot be together, it will be because of your stubbornness and not mine nor your father's." With that she turned and left him alone with the water. 


	7. Planning the Future

A/N: Shortly after the Singing Falls, Legolas is meeting with Elrond to finalize the plans for his marriage to Tinuviel. A little more insight into the whole Lifemarriage vs Bondmarriage thing and some more information about Legolas' relationship with his father.  
  
PLANNING THE FUTURE  
  
Elrond sat in his large chair beside the window, silently contemplating the hill of ice flowers that were now beginning to die, making way for the new green growth of spring to come. He tapped his steepled fingers against his tightly closed lips as he mulled over Legolas' request. It was an unusual proposition for a human to be bonded to an elf, truly this would be the first he had ever heard of.  
  
Never before had Elrond seen Legolas so anxious, not even on the eve of battle. He fought the small smile that threatened at the corners of his mouth, for long he had thought the young (at least compared to Elrond himself) elf may never find someone that could so cloud his mind and fill his heart. Sadly, it was thus with Elven kind, they gave their love neither easily nor lightly and so they dwindled even as the other races of Middle Earth thrived and grew. But when an elf gave their love it was forever and could never be replaced, which was the reason the crossings between elf and human were so rare and when they did occur, the elf would normally choose a mortal life so that they would not have to endure the ages without their lost love. So, the practice of Bondmarriages was instituted.  
  
A Bondmarriage allowed those of a mind to hold to each other for a contracted period of time. It was as legal in Elven law as a Lifemarriage. There were few differences between the two, one being that it was for a specified amount of contracted time and at the end of that time the couple could become Lifebonded or go their separate ways (which was normally the case). The second was that the Bondmarriage could not produce a born heir. If for some reason a born heir was never produced, however, a Bondmarriage child could be made named heir and inherit as a born heir would.  
  
Still, never in history had any elf taken a human woman to be his bond- wife. It was not the way of humans. Their short lives did not allow for such arrangements, seeing them as little more than concubines, even if they would never say such a thing to the elves.  
  
After, what seemed to Legolas to be, a very long time, Elrond turned back to the young elf waiting patiently by the fire. "My good friend, I do not know if I can do this thing you ask of me, nor even if I should considering your Father's position on the subject."  
  
The muscle flexed in the fair elf's jaw. "My Father has no say as to who I may take as a bond-wife."  
  
Elrond shook his head. "No. Indeed he does not. He still will not be overly pleased, you can be sure."  
  
Legolas' face changed little, though his dark eyes sparked with anger. "I care not what will or will not please my Father. He certainly cares little for what will please me."  
  
Elrond could not entirely hide his smile this time. Thranduil, he felt, was entirely too restrictive with his only son and if he did not see that he may soon lose him. "My other concern is for Tinuviel. Bondmarriages are not the way of humans. Does she know what it means to be bonded?"  
  
"She does," in an uncharacteristic display of restlessness, Legolas stood and paced to the window, leaning one long fingered hand against the cool glass. "She was the one who suggested it. I would have renounced my claim to my Father's throne and taken a mortal life too if she had but said yes." He sighed. "But she is exceedingly stubborn, and quite tenacious."  
  
Elrond laughed out loud. "Yes. She is, isn't she? Quite a breath of fresh air. It is long since such a human has graced my court. I do like her very much."  
  
The hint of a smile kicked up at the corners of Legolas' mouth. "It is not one of her more endearing traits, but it does make things interesting." He turned to Elrond. "Then you will consent to bond us?"  
  
"I will," the older Elf agreed. "But what will happen when the year has ended?"  
  
A hard resolve settled over his face. "If my Father does not accept Tinuviel as my true wife, then I will renounce the throne and my immortal life. She has promised that she will marry me if I so choose, and I trust her to keep her word."  
  
Elrond was filled with a moment's sadness as he thought of his daughter and son that had chosen mortality for love. If it had been his choice he would have had his children bring their mortal loves to Rivendell to live out their lives, but they had chosen the one life instead. "Then I shall pray for your Father's wisdom."  
  
"Thank you, Elrond."  
  
The elder elf gave Legolas leave to go, but before he could put a hand to the door Elrond stopped him. "One moment, Legolas."  
  
Blond hair whipped about his shoulders as he turned to face Elrond. "Yes, my lord?"  
  
"A question, if you please. To satisfy my curiosity."  
  
Legolas frowned. "If the answer is mine to give."  
  
Cocking his dark head slightly to the side, Elrond studied Legolas. "Why did you not accept Tinuviel's generous offer of a welcome and warm bed and be done with it?" He saw the look of surprise register on the young elf's face for a moment before he masked, and he couldn't help but smile. "Very little happens in my house that I do not know. I am sorry if I have offended you with the question, but it is not entirely unheard of, especially among humans."  
  
"You haven't offended me, but I was a bit caught off guard though, now that I think on it, I shouldn't really be surprised." He stood silent for a moment before answering. "I was sorely tempted, to be certain. She is beautiful," a small smile touched his lips, "and tenacious." His eyes softened a bit as he thought of the woman he loved. "But I want more than only to share her bed, for certainly I could have done that by now or I could have found someone else. What I really want is her heart. To posses it as surely as she has possessed mine."  
  
Elrond nodded, he was glad to know that he had not been wrong about his young friend. And if he was any judge of human kind, the fair elf had already stolen Tinuviel's heart. "Then I believe you have made a wise choice." 


	8. Wedding Day

Author's Note: It's been a while since I updated, since no one seemed to be reviewing. But then I figured, I'd written this to amuse myself and Arien so it didn't matter. Then I figured I might as well post the rest up on fanfiction.net so that all the bits and pieces would be together (and if anyone did happen to read it I wouldn't seem like a complete flake). So, here it is. The next installment. This is where the real story takes off. Unfortunately, a really nice, kind of important, chunk of the story has been lost :( Arien had written a very cool part with Boromir, Arien, and Aragorn that introduced the Arien character (yes, this is Mary Sue, get over it LOL) and it had a VERY interesting dream sequence that I am very sad was lost to the angry computer gods ::sniff:: But, the lowdown on Arien is that she was discovered wandering the borders of Mordor and Gondor in much the same way that Tinuviel was found in the woods on her way to Rivendell. The only thing that Arien remembered were the words "Protect Gondor" and she ended up saving Aragorn from an arrow. The bad thing about all this is that Aragorn now (since he's attracted to Arien and thinks this is being disloyal to the memory of Arwen, so he has push Arien away) has this idea that they may both (Arien and Tinuviel) be connected to Moria in some way. So now he has shown up in Rivendell and found that Legolas and Tinuviel have just been married. Clear as mud? Good. Let the games begin.  
  
Tinuviel and Legolas stood talking with the old wizard Legolas had introduced as Gandalf. He was a pleasant old man and had some sort of familiarity about him, though she could not place it. The day had been a whirlwind of activity, with Thranduil showing up and accepting Tinuviel into his family, making the marriage a Lifemarriage, rather than just the Bondmarriage that had originally been arranged. She was so happy she thought she could fly, but it was also very overwhelming. She held tightly to Legolas' hand and he squeezed it gently, giving her a small, reassuring smile.  
  
"Look what I have found, dredged up from the bottom of the river." Gimli the Dwarf, who had was resplendant in silver and gold mail that seemed somewhat odd at a wedding but seemed perfectly fitting for him to wear, came through the tight crowd of people. He did not seem to mind that everyone, including Tinuviel, stood head and shoulders taller than he. He carried himself as regally as any king would as indeed he should since he had taken the seat of the kingdom when his father died. He and his wife, Telora, had arrived  
  
several days before to help with the preparations of the wedding and Tinuviel liked them very much.  
  
Tinuviel fingered the long tail of silver and gold hanging beneath the her long, raven tresses that Telora had braided into a small hank of her hair as a bridegift from she and Gimli. She smiled widely as she saw the men he had in tow. "Aragorn! Boromir! We feared you would not be here." She hugged both of the men as they entered the small, but growing, circle.  
  
Legolas clasped their arms and shone one of his rare smiles. "My friends. The messenger bird returned from Gondor with news from Faramir that neither of you would be able to attend. I am glad to see you both." He clapped Gimli on the shoulder. "You have indeed brought a gift with you."  
  
Boromir smiled at him. "We were much surprised when we arrived last night to find preparations for your wedding."  
  
"Boromir more than I," Aragorn teased, "I knew when last I saw you that it would not be long ere you joined the ranks of married men."  
  
"You make it sound like a disease," Tinuviel scoffed, goodnaturedly.  
  
Aragorn became serious. "I am sorry, Tinuviel, to interrupt your celebration, but we did come here with another purpose, if we could steal away your husband and Gimli, and Gandalf too now that we know where to find him." He turned to Legolas. "Elrond is waiting for us, we have something of importance to discuss."  
  
Tinuviel studied the seriousness of his face for a moment. "If it is unavoidable." After a bit she nodded. "Well, then. If you are to deprive me of my husband and all my companions then I shall have a dance from you as payment when you return." She cast a small smile on Boromir. "And you as well."  
  
The larger of the two men smiled down at her. "Easily and gladly done."  
  
Legolas frowned. "Can this not wait until tomorrow?"  
  
"It possibly could," Aragorn nodded, thoughtfully, "or it might be more dire than we suspect."  
  
Turning to his newly wed wife, he brushed the back of his knuckles over her cheek and kissed the hand he held. "I shall return as soon as I may." And the group of men left her standing there alone.  
  
Some time later Tinuviel stood with a group of female elves, sipping at her wine and looking around to see if there were any sign of Legolas. Not that she was uncomfortable with the throng of well wishers, she'd been in Rivendell for more than a year, and it had become her home. These people had become her friends. And if she didn't think too much on it she could almost believe she was really one of them. She loved them all, but she loved Legolas more and would like to be able to show him just how much she loved him sometime soon. It seemed like forever since he had gone off with his friends to talk about some oh so important issue.  
  
"Come, Tinuviel, sing with us." Dariel took her by the hand and urged her to the fireplace where she sat her down on a padded stool and pressed her harp into her hands.  
  
"But this is my wedding day," Tinuviel protested, laughing, "should it not be you entertaining me?"  
  
"Alas, a year and more you have spent in Rivendell and you still do not understand our ways," Dariel joked, taking up her own harp. Dariel was younger than Legolas. Only a bit over 1500 years old, but it still surprised Tinuviel how young they could seem sometimes.  
  
Still smiling, Tinuviel plucked at the strings and began humming. "What shall we sing?"  
  
Gaylorn took up his flute. "Since this is a wedding feast it should be a story of great love, and since you are named for her, I think we should sing the song of Beren and Luthien."  
  
"Beren and Luthien it is, then." Bregolas, Dariel's brother, joined them on the drum and they moved into the familiar song.  
  
The leaves were long, the grass was green,  
  
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,  
  
And in the glade a light was seen  
  
Of stars in shadow shimmering.  
  
Tinúviel was dancing there  
  
To music of a pipe unseen,  
  
And light of stars was in her hair,  
  
And in her raiment glimmering.  
  
There Beren came from mountains cold,  
  
And lost he wandered under leaves,  
  
And where the Elven-river rolled  
  
He walked alone and sorrowing.  
  
He peered between the hemlock-leaves  
  
And saw in wonder flowers of gold  
  
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,  
  
And her hair like shadow following.  
  
Enchantment healed his weary feet  
  
That over hills were doomed to roam;  
  
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,  
  
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.  
  
Through woven woods in Elvenhome  
  
She lightly fled on dancing feet,  
  
And left him lonely still to roam  
  
In the silent forest listening.  
  
He heard there oft the flying sound  
  
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,  
  
Or music welling underground,  
  
In hidden hollows quavering.  
  
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,  
  
And one by one with sighing sound  
  
Whispering fell the beachen leaves  
  
In the wintry woodland wavering.  
  
He sought her ever, wandering far  
  
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,  
  
By light of moon and ray of star  
  
In frosty heavens shivering.  
  
Her mantle glinted in the moon,  
  
As on a hill-top high and far  
  
She danced, and at her feet was strewn  
  
A mist of silver quivering.  
  
When winter passed, she came again,  
  
And her song released the sudden spring,  
  
Like rising lark, and falling rain,  
  
And melting water bubbling.  
  
He saw the elven-flowers spring  
  
About her feet, and healed again  
  
He longed by her to dance and sing  
  
Upon the grass untroubling.  
  
Again she fled, but swift he came.  
  
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!  
  
He called her by her elvish name;  
  
And there she halted listening.  
  
One moment stood she, and a spell  
  
His voice laid on her: Beren came,  
  
And doom fell on Tinúviel  
  
That in his arms lay glistening.  
  
As Beren looked into her eyes  
  
Within the shadows of her hair,  
  
The trembling starlight of the skies  
  
He saw there mirrored shimmering.  
  
Tinúviel the elven-fair,  
  
Immortal maiden elven-wise,  
  
About him cast her shadowy hair  
  
And arms like silver glimmering.  
  
Long was the way that fate them bore,  
  
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,  
  
Through halls of ireon and darkling door,  
  
And woods of nightshade morrowless.  
  
The Sundering Seas between them lay,  
  
And yet at last they met once more,  
  
And long ago they passed away  
  
In the forest singing sorrowless.  
  
When the song was done, Tinuviel stood, laying her harp down on the chair. "I was certain Legolas would be back by now. Whatever could be keeping him?"  
  
Dariel put a soothing hand on Tinuviel's back. "Do not fear, he will return ere long. Why do you not stay with us and enjoy the singing."  
  
Tinuviel smiled at her. "I find I am anxious to see my husband and my mind is not on singing, but please, I do enjoy listening to you as well."  
  
Nodding, the tall elf woman moved back to the circle of musicians and joined them in another song.  
  
Moving through the crowd of people, Tinuviel stopped by the window and looked out at the green hills and the rolling waters of the many falls that could be seen from the main building. She sighed, wondering where Legolas was and hoping he would return soon.  
  
"Lady Tinuviel?"  
  
She turned to find a tall, dark haired elf standing behind her. She had seen him before, with Legolas' father. "Yes," she smiled as she remembered the name Legolas had told her. "Aldan, isn't it?"  
  
He inclined his head slightly. "It is. Legolas bade me ask you to meet him at the singing falls."  
  
A smile crossed Tinuviel's face. That must be what was taking him so long, he was waiting for her at the falls. "Thank you, Aldan." Moving silently away, she hung her warm, deceptively thin, cloak about her shoulders and slipped into the darkness.  
  
The moon was shining on the breast of the falls as Tinuviel came to stand at the bottom of the fell of boulders where she and Legolas frequently visited. She looked around for some sign of him but could find none. *Surely he wouldn't have climbed the fell at night,* she thought, but Elves had amazing senses and he could see his way as easily at night as in full daylight. Often Tinuviel wished she could have the night vision that Legolas and all his kindred had. Or any of their heightened senses. She'd often wondered what things would taste or smell like if she were an Elf.  
  
"Legolas!" she called over the soft, insistent sound of the falls, but there was no answer. *Have I missed him,* she wondered.  
  
She did not have long to wonder. Feeling eyes upon her, she turned to find Aldan standing behind her with two other Elves she did not know but vaguely remembered from the feast. Fear welled within her, but for what she was not entirely sure. "Aldan. I do not suppose Legolas has sent you here with another message."  
  
The look on his face was utterly cold and expressionless, but within his eyes burned hatred and anger the like of which Tinuviel had never seen in an elf before. "No, Lady Tinuviel. I am afraid that was but a ruse to get you away from the feast."  
  
She began to back away, though she knew she could never scramble up the fell before he caught her. "Why would you wish to do that?"  
  
"It is very simple really. Before this morning, Thranduil was prepared to denounce Legolas as his heir and name me heir to the throne of Mirkwood. Already I have promised things that I cannot deliver if I am not made king." He spread his hands out expressively. "So you can see that Thranduil's change of heart is not in my best interest."  
  
Backing away until her legs were backed against one cold stone, Tinuviel was gauging what possible effect might be had if she tried to use her songspell to turn this situation around. "And how do I fit into this problem?"  
  
"We cannot have any other heirs from Thranduil's line. I must kill Legolas, but it cannot be here. I need you to lure him away from Rivendell."  
  
There was nowhere for her to go but up. She turned to climb the fell and scrambled up the rocks. To her surprise, they let her go. When she came to the top she stopped, there was nowhere else to go. On two sides were sheer cliffs with no handholds or even roots to pull herself up with, on the third was the fell of rocks that led back to where she began, and finally there was the falls. It was possible that she could jump into the cold water rushing below and live, but it was a very slight possibility, leaning toward the impossible. Still, it was a choice and the only one she had.  
  
Aldan followed leisurely behind her, allowing her to reach the top. He smiled when he reached the top and found her standing next to the falls. "Not the best of options, is it?"  
  
She looked at him and then down at the water. She felt safer with the water. "Perhaps not, but it is better than the one you offer." She moved to the edge and was about to jump when Aldan's hand clamped tightly, painfully about her arm.  
  
Handing her into the hands of his two friends, he looked down at her. "We do not have time to try to fish your body out of the water, but you have given me an idea." Leaning down, he tore a bit of fabric from her wedding gown. It took a moment to find an appropriate spot, but when he did he snagged the material onto the sharp bit of rock. Taking his silver dagger out of his boot, he held her hand and pierced the soft flesh of her palm with the tip, letting the blood drip down onto the rocks below. "Now. That should slow them down a bit and give us more time to get away." Replacing his dagger into it's sheath, he started back down the fell. "Bring her. We ride straightaway for Mirkwood."  
  
AN: The song of Beren and Luthien belongs to JRR Tolkien as do all the other characters, places, etc. borrowed from his brilliant works. 


	9. Searching for Tinuviel

Tinuviel struggled as the two elves took her down the rocks to the solid ground beside the river. "Why do you wish to take me to Mirkwood?"  
  
"Because it is in Mirkwood where my allies hide," there was evil Aldan's gaze.  
  
She opened her mouth, not sure whether she was going to scream or sing, but before she could do either, a heavy blow came down on the back of her neck and the world was darkness again.  
  
Legolas emerged from his meeting less than thrilled. There was a frown on his beautiful face as he made his way back to the feast, in search of his wife. Granted it was odd that another girl with loss of memory and speaking Tinuviel's language had been found on the borders of Gondor and Mordor, but Aragorn had admitted himself that the girl nearly died trying to save him. Why would she do that if she was an agent of Mordor. And the very suggestion that Tinuviel might be involved with some evil plot was ludicrous. Boromir knew it, though he did feel there was something odd going on. Gandalf knew  
  
it, and he'd only just met his new bride, Elrond, Gimli, every Elf in Rivendell knew there was no evil intent in Tinuviel. If Aragorn could not see that then he was not only blind, but a fool. And Legolas could no longer call him friend.  
  
"Legolas, wait!" Aragorn called, running up to catch up to the swiftly moving Elf.  
  
Legolas did not look back, instead he kept moving swiftly forward. "I have nothing more to say to you, Aragorn." Suddenly he stopped and allowed the human King to catch up with him. "Except this. You may be welcome in Rivendell, but you are not welcome at my wedding celebration." Having said his peace, Legolas continued on.  
  
Elrond caught up with Aragorn and put a hand on his arm, holding him back. "Perhaps you should allow his anger to wane before approaching him again." The elder Elf gave him a kind look. "It is possible you are allowing your feelings to cloud your judgment." Elrond did not need to read minds to know that Aragorn had mixed feelings about Arien.  
  
Aragorn ran a hand through his hair. "I am only trying to look out for the best interests of everyone in Middle Earth. He is the one allowing his feelings to cloud his judgment."  
  
"Aragorn. He is in love, you know what that means for an Elf. And you have insulted his wife by suggesting she is a minion of the Dark Lord." Elrond frowned at him. "How exactly did you expect him to react?"  
  
"He has been my friend for more years than I can remember, Elrond." There was a pained expression on his face. "I foolishly expected him to listen to what I was trying to tell him. You know I like Tinuviel, I do not wish to believe ill of her, but stranger things have been known to happen."  
  
Gandalf stepped out of the shadows and joined Elrond and Aragorn. The others had made their ways back to the feast trying not to disturb Elrond and Aragorn. "None of us wish to believe ill of those we care for."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "That does not mean it is not true."  
  
"No," Gandalf agreed, "it does not."  
  
"Then you think it might be possible?" Aragorn only wished for at least one other person to see what he did.  
  
"No. I do not. Tinuviel and Arien are not involved with the Dark Lord."  
  
Elrond nodded. "I agree." He turned back to Aragorn. "I am sorry, Aragorn, but I believe you are wrong."  
  
"Not entirely," Gandalf countered. "Oh they themselves are not evil, but there is a darkness falling over Middle Earth and it centers about these two lost girls. Though neither of them knows their place in this this grand scheme, of that I am certain." He held a hand up to Aragorn's questioning face. "Do not ask me any more, for this is all I can tell you." He turned to leave, but Aragorn stopped him with a quiet question.  
  
"Are they a danger to us, Gandalf. Can you tell me that at least?"  
  
Gandalf thought for a long moment before looking at Aragorn over his shoulder. "Yes. But not in any way you will expect."  
  
Legolas looked around the large room, looking for some sign of Tinuviel in the throng of people. He saw Boromir coming toward him and started to leave, but then thought the better of it. Boromir was not his enemy, he did not believe Aragorn's theories anymore than anyone else in the meeting had. "Boromir, have you seen Tinuviel?"  
  
The large man shook his head. He had just come from looking in on the sleeping Arien, glad she had stayed out of trouble during the meeting. "I have not." He put his hand on the lithe Elf's shoulder. "I am sorry, Legolas. I did not know that Aragorn was going to accuse Tinuviel of being in league with the Dark Lord. I thought he had left off the theory that Arien was a spy for Mordor after she saved his life at the river, but apparently I was wrong."  
  
"Please, Boromir. I have no further wish to discuss it. I wish only to find my wife." Legolas spotted Dariel and motioned the younger Elf over.  
  
"Legolas," Dariel smiled at him as she glided over the floor. "Did Tinuviel not find you?"  
  
Legolas frowned at her. "No. She did not. When did she leave?"  
  
"Some time ago. It looked as if she was heading toward the Singing Falls. I assumed she was going to meet you there." It was no secret that this was a favored place for them.  
  
"I have not been to the falls today," Legolas' frown deepened. "Perhaps she went there to be alone." He knew that the press of people had been a bit much for her.  
  
Dariel could see the concern on his face. "Is all well, Legolas?"  
  
"I hope so. Thank you, Dariel." Nodding to the her, he turned and started making his way to the Singing Falls.  
  
Elrond and Gandalf entered the room shortly after Legolas had departed. They found Boromir standing to himself, lost in thought and Legolas and Tinuviel conspicuously absent from their own wedding feast. "Have Tinuviel and Legolas departed for the night?"  
  
"Legolas has gone to find Tinuviel at the Singing Falls."  
  
A frown creased Gandalf's brow. "Why would she go to the falls at night?"  
  
Elrond shook his head. "I do not know." He saw the look on the old wizard's face. "What is it, Gandalf?"  
  
"We should go to the falls straightaway."  
  
Boromir looked a bit uncomfortable. "But if nothing is amiss, I do not believe Legolas will appreciate another intrusion. Have we not already taken enough of his wedding night from him?"  
  
Gandalf's face was grave as he started toward the terrace. "He will not find her there." With those ominous words he strode away.  
  
Legolas came to the small glade next to the river below the Singing Falls. Tinuviel was not there. Looking up at the fall of stones that lead to a natural terrace next to the falls, he could not imagine her climbing them in such dim light but there was nowhere else to go. He made his way easily over the rocks but when he reached the terrace it was empty. More perplexed than ever he stood there for a moment, wondering if she might have gone walking in the gardens instead. He was about to make his way down the rocks when he heard a noise coming through the trees. "Tinuviel?" He was somewhat surprised to see the group of men emerge from the trees. "What are you doing here?" he asked, frowning, as he began his descent.  
  
Gandalf waited until he got to the bottom before speaking. "You have not found Tinuviel." It was not a question, he knew the answer.  
  
"I was going to look for her in the gardens. Why?"  
  
Lighting the crystal in his staff, he began to look around. "I do not believe you will find her in the gardens either."  
  
"Perhaps she has decided to leave Rivendell," Aragorn said, his face serious. "Have you seen Arien?"  
  
"Aragorn," Gandalf admonished.  
  
The light glittering in Legolas' eyes was cold and hard. "King or no, be very careful what you say about my wife, Aragorn."  
  
Boromir broke in between his two friends. "Arien is sleeping in her room, I saw her there not half an hour ago."  
  
Gimli moved to where the wizard was standing, casting his light about as if he were looking for something. "What are you about, Gandalf?"  
  
Gandalf gave Legolas a sorrowful look. "I am sorry, Legolas, but I feel some misfortune has befallen your bride."  
  
Legolas closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. "What do you mean, do you know where she is? What has happened to her?"  
  
The wizard lay a soothing hand on Legolas' shoulder. "I do not know what, precisely, but there is an ill feeling in the back of my mind."  
  
"Wait. I see something." Frowning, Elrond pointed up at a scrap of white fluttering against the rocks. "That was not here yesterday."  
  
Looking up to where Elrond was pointing, Legolas saw the white material and a fist of fear pounded his heart. He ran up the rocks and across the terrace, throwing himself onto his stomach at the edge of the cliff. Reaching down his long arms, he snagged the piece of cloth and pulled it up, but not before he saw the blood splattered on the stones below.  
  
He pulled himself up, sitting with an elbow resting on one raised knee. Closing his eyes, he sat on the edge of the cliff and held the material tightly in his hands as the others climbed the fell and emerged on the terrace.  
  
"Legolas?" Gimli said softly, moving toward his friend.  
  
When Legolas opened his eyes, tears were glistening, unshed, glittering in the depths of his blue gaze. His voice was flat, emotionless. "There is blood on the rocks." For a moment he just sat there, staring bleakly at his friends. Lifting his hands, he showed them the fabric that had been caught on the sharp outcropping of stone. "This is a piece of her wedding dress." He ran his fingertips over the intricate embroidery, silver and gold threads worked through the white silk.  
  
No one was unaffected by the sudden discovery. Elrond stood in silence, grieving for the loss of someone that had grown very dear to him. Gimli sat down on a rock, the thought that the vibrant young woman he had met could have ceased to exist sent a shard of pain through his heart. Boromir too, who had despite original misgivings about the unusual girl become quite close to her, wept openly. Aragorn ran a hand over his face, a million thoughts running through his mind. Only Gandalf seemed able to move. He walked over to the edge of the cliff and looked down into the water, holding his light aloft, looking at the blood splattered over the rocks. There was something, some echo there, if only he could hear it.  
  
For a long time Legolas sat there, stroking the soft fabric. When he spoke again, it was to no one in particular. "She did the needlework herself." He half smiled at the memory. "She would not allow me to see it until today. I remember her hiding it whenever I would come close enough to see." He lay the material over his palm and smoothed it out with his other hand. "It is beautiful, is it not? I cannot remember if I told her how beautiful it was, how beautiful she was."  
  
Gandalf lay a hand on his shoulder. "If she but looked into your eyes she would have seen."  
  
Legolas looked up suddenly. "Gandalf," he seemed oblivious to the wet streak of tear that tracked down his cheek. "Do you think it possible she could be alive? Perhaps she was injured but swept down the river? She is a strong swimmer and the current is not so fast further down the river." He knew he was grasping at straws, but it was all he had. And until he saw a body, he would hold onto this small hope.  
  
"I do not know," Gandalf said slowly, "but there is more here than we see."  
  
Elrond stepped forward. "We shall organize a search of the river from here to the Baranduin if there is even the possibility she could be alive."  
  
Standing up gracefully, Legolas tucked the piece of material into the braided belt about his waist. "Thank you, Elrond."  
  
"We will all search," Aragorn knew he had been mistaken about Arien, and Tinuviel had paid the price for his unease around the other woman. "I am sorry, Legolas."  
  
"Sorry," Legolas scoffed, eyes fire bright with anger. "You are sorry? If not for you and your unseen phantoms of evil she would be by my side even now." The tall Elf moved forward until he stood toe to toe with Aragorn. He looked down into the man's eyes. "I hold you responsible for her life," he said almost too softly for anyone to hear.  
  
"That is unfair, Legolas." Boromir did not like to see his friends looking at each other with hate and remorse.  
  
"No, Boromir, he is right." Aragorn bowed his head a bit and stepped back from Legolas. "The woman he loves has gone missing, I know that feeling only too well." He looked back up at Legolas. "I accept the responsibility for her life, Legolas."  
  
Elrond moved to stand between them. "We are not accomplishing anything like this. Boromir, go back and gather all the available men to search the river banks, we will remain and search here by the falls."  
  
Hours passed, and nothing. The moon sat, and nothing. Not even so much as another scrap of her clothing was to be found. Every inch of Rivendell and the surrounding mountains and woods were searched, there was not a trace of her to be found anywhere. It was as if she had fallen of the face of the earth.  
  
"Legolas!" a soft voice called.  
  
In the gray hour before dawn, a lone figure in white could be seen walking through the woods toward the falls. Legolas, wet head to toe from searching at the base of the falls, frowned as he saw the woman approaching. He could see it was Arien. "What is she doing here?"  
  
Gandalf looked toward where Arien was entering the small glade and smile. "She is here to help us." Aragorn started to stop Arien, but Gandalf held him back. "No. She is walking in her sleep, perhaps she can shed a light on those things which we cannot see."  
  
"How can she do that?" Aragorn's face held a puzzled expression, and hope that she might be able to help them find Tinuviel, or at least some trace of her.  
  
Smiling enigmatically, Gandalf waved everyone out of her way. "Just watch."  
  
Arien walked through the glade. Her eyes were open wide but she was clearly not seeing what was in front of her, some other scene was playing out before her eyes. She moved to the edge of the fell of rocks and looked up, as if searching. Stopping suddenly, she turned around, looking at someone who was not there. "Aldan. I do not suppose Legolas has sent you here with another message."  
  
"Aldan?" Legolas hissed. "My cousin?! What has he to do with Tinuviel's disappearance?" As he thought on it, he could not remember seeing Aldan since last night sometime.  
  
"Hush, Legolas," Gandalf chided, "just watch and listen and perhaps we will gain some answers."  
  
They watched her as she stood there. Listening wide eyed to a phantom voice, she backed toward the boulders until the back of her legs came against the closest one. "And how do I fit into this problem?" Listening for another moment, she turned suddenly and began scrambling up the rocks, losing her footing in places as Arien was not as familiar with the boulder as Tinuviel was.  
  
Legolas' heart beat in his throat as he watched the scene unfold and realized he was watching what could well have been the last moments of his beloved Tinuviel. He jumped up onto the fell and began traversing it behind her, followed by Gandalf, Boromir and Aragorn.  
  
Arien was breathless when she reached the top. She looked frantically from one side to the other and then moved closer to the edge of the cliff. The dawn sun was beginning to shine through the trees at the tops of the mountains filling the valley with a pink light. Arien looked down into the water then back directly at Legolas. It surprised him when she looked him in the eye, but then he realized she wasn't seeing him. It felt strange somehow to know he was standing in the same spot his cousin had apparently stood in the night before.  
  
"Perhaps not," she said with a bravado that was so like Tinuviel, Legolas could almost see her standing there instead of Arien, "but it is better than the one you offer." She moved to the edge and prepared to jump, but when Legolas realized she meant to play out the entire scene, he grabbed her tightly about the waist and pulled her away from the edge.  
  
She fought against him, but held her hands, keeping them from scratching him. Boromir came forward and held her face. "Arien, wake up, it's Boromir."  
  
"NO!" Gandalf ordered. "She still has something to tell us. Let her go."  
  
"She will plunge to her death," Boromir protested.  
  
"I do not think so, in any case, you will be there to catch her if she tries it again."  
  
Legolas released her and she moved, as if pushed, toward the edge of the cliff. She looked down at something at the ground, or someone doing something. Then she stood there, balancing on the edge, holding her hand out, grimacing at something, then pulling her hand back to cradle it against her chest. She moved back to the fell as if she were struggling against something, or someone.  
  
"He had accomplices," Gandalf said in a matter of fact voice. "Boromir, Aragorn, carry her back down to the foot of the fell."  
  
Exchanging odd looks, the two humans did as they were told and carried a struggling Arien back down to the bottom of the fell. Legolas watched, not quite believing his eyes and ears. If what they were witnessing now was what had actually happened to Tinuviel, then that meant his bride had not died in the rushing river below. Relief swept through him as he and Gandalf followed them to the glade below. "She is alive," he breathed, hardly daring to believe it.  
  
Gandalf nodded. "At least she did not die here."  
  
Once at the bottom of the fell, Arien stopped struggling. "Why do you wish to take me to Mirkwood?" She listened for the answer. It seemed as if she was going to say something more, but she suddenly went limp in their arms, her legs falling out from under her. Gandalf and Legolas rushed forward.  
  
Arien blinked her eyes and looked around, confused. "What is happening, where am I?" She tried to sit up, but fell back against Aragorn, exhausted. "Why is everyone looking at me?"  
  
"Do you not remember anything?" Gandalf asked as he bent over her, looking into her eyes.  
  
"Remember what? I was in my bed asleep. How did I get here?" she demanded.  
  
Aragorn rolled his eyes and pulled her up, supporting her about her waist. "There is the shrew we have come to know so well."  
  
"Remarkable." Gandalf put his hands on his hips and looked amused. "We must find Elrond and tell him to call off the search of the river, we now have a new direction in which to look." He turned to Boromir, "Boromir, will you find Elrond and Gimli, I believe we should get Arien back to the house and we have preparations to make." Looking once more at Arien to assure himself she was well, he nodded and went off on Gandalf's errands.  
  
Gandalf, Legolas, Aragorn, and Arien started back to the house as quickly as they could. "We know that Aldan has Tinuviel and is taking her to Mirkwood," Legolas frowned. "But why?"  
  
"Surely you can guess," Gandalf said as they marched through the wood. "It is no secret that before your father spoke with Elrond he was ready to denounce you as his heir. Who would have been the next heir, do you think?"  
  
Realization struck him and he closed his eyes as he realized that Tinuviel had been taken to lure him away from Rivendell and back into Mirkwood. "This is all my fault." He turned to Aragorn, contrition on his face. "My friend, I am sorry for the things I said to you last night."  
  
"No, Legolas," Aragorn lay a hand on his shoulder. "You are right. If not for me you would have been with Tinuviel. If I had been in the same position, I would have been far less civil I am sure. But I am glad I will now have the chance to help you find your wife."  
  
Legolas clasped his friend's arm. "Thank you." 


	10. Tinuviel's Rescue: The Beginning

Legolas ran back to his room as the others went about their own business. They would meet in Elrond's Council Chamber within the hour, and then they would be on their way. It couldn't be too soon to Legolas' way of thinking. Aldan and whoever was helping him had a twelve hour head start at least, more if they did not care if they lamed their horses. Somehow, he doubted they would care.  
  
His shirt was already half stripped off when he ran through the door. Throwing it on the floor he dug out his traveling clothes, kicked off his shoes, and began to strip off his trousers. That was when he saw the braided length of gold and silver chains wound through a long lock of dark hair.  
  
Anger flaring through him, he reached down, scooping up the long braid and holding it tightly in his clenched fist. The thought of a dagger so close to Tinuviel's throat sent rivulets of rage down every nerve ending in his body. Aldan would pay for this.  
  
Beneath the braid lay a folded paper. Before he even picked it up he knew what it was. It was a note from Aldan. Unfolding the paper, he read the carefully scripted hand. "Come home. Come alone or I will kill her. You know where to find me."  
  
Legolas crumpled the paper in his fist, holding it so tightly his fist shook from the effort. He forced his fingers to release their hold and dropped the ball onto the bed. He didn't hesitate long enough to think, he knew what he had to do. Dressing quickly in his traveling clothes, he tied the braid onto his belt and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, fastening the leaf broach at his throat. His bow, quiver, and knives were standing, ever at the ready, in the corner. He strapped them onto his back, the weight almost a comfort.  
  
There was no time for niceties. No journeybread, water or wineskins. Not even a flask of miruvor to ease his weary body. He'd have to eat and drink whatever he could find along the way. That was no great hardship, though. The road from Rivendell to Mirkwood had many springs and the journey was not so long that if he did not eat it would harm him, being an Elf did have advantages in that they could go for long periods of time with no food, but clean water was a necessity to every living thing.  
  
There was so much confusion between stopping the search for Tinuviel along the river bank and through Rivendell and learning what had truly happened that Legolas had no trouble slipping unnoticed down to the paddock where the horses were left to run free. There was a natural cave that had been widened until it made a safe, warm, and secure stable for them when it was needed and there was always someone to check on them throughout the day and night, but for the most part they were left alone.  
  
Moving quietly to the gate, Legolas called Arod to him. The beautiful white stallion had been a gift to him from Eomer many years ago now and he had become a dear friend to Legolas. He knew and served his master well and when he heard the sound of Legolas' whistle, he came trotting up to the gate.  
  
Legolas opened the gate and Arod nuzzled the Elf's cheek as he came to stand beside him. Laying a hand on the horse's muzzle, Legolas spoke softly to him. "I need you to carry me as quickly as you are able, my friend." Arod nickered answering him in his own way. Every living thing could speak if only you listened, Elves listened and Legolas knew Arod could feel his desperation. "Thank you, my friend." Grabbing hold of the silver mane, he swung himself lightly onto the horse's back. As soon as he had his seat, Arod was off, moving quickly through the trees that would take them to the path out of Rivendell. His old horse was not as young as many of the stallions in the paddock, but he was swift and knew the road between Rivendell and Mirkwood better than any. Even though Legolas was not willing to harm him, he knew Arod would carry him as fast as his feet would fly.  
  
*******************  
  
Aragorn had never seen his friend so upset, it was odd to see the normally calm, cool Elf struggling to keep control of his emotions. But he knew how Legolas felt. The difference was that Legolas knew where to find Tinuviel. Aragorn wasn't sure if that was better than not knowing.  
  
"Aragorn, I need to go with you to the meeting." Arien burst into Aragorn's room as he was dressing, but the king did nothing to hide his state of undress, if she was offended she could leave. Unfortunately, she wasn't offended. Closing the door behind her, she moved into the room. "I think I should be with you on the search for Tinuviel."  
  
Fastening his leather riding pants, he pulled his shirt on over his head, sending his mane of dark hair into disarray. "You cannot go. Stay here with Elrond and you will be safe." He hastily tucked in his shirt and sat down on the bed to pull on his boots.  
  
Arien raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. "If that came from a concern for my well being, I might be tempted to listen to it."  
  
He stood and pulled the leather jerkin on over his shirt, belting it tightly at the waist and hanging his scabbard at his hip. "You cannot go. That is final." He grabbed his cloak and bow and quiver then brushed past her, heading to the Elrond's chambers.  
  
When he entered the room he found Gandalf and Elrond already seated by the fire, heads bent in discussion. Elrond smiled a bit when he saw Aragorn. "Come in and sit by the fire while we await the others."  
  
Aragorn sat his cloak, bow, and quiver beside the door and crossed the room to join the elder Wizard and Elf. "Did no one see anything Elrond? "The dark Elf shook his head, a frown settling on his brow. "Nothing. But they are Elves, they could easily have evaded everyone. Even with Tinuviel. I'm certain they were incredibly cautious."  
  
Aragorn heaved a frustrated sigh. "I cannot help but think on what happened this morning with Arien. What happened, why was she able to see those things?"  
  
Gandalf held back the smile that threatened. "Arien is more than she seems, Aragorn. I think she would be helpful on the search for Tinuviel."  
  
"I cannot take her with us, we are going into a dangerous situation without any clear view of what we are getting into. She would be a liability to us, I do not need another female to worry over." He looked up as Boromir came into the room, dressed in his travel clothes, and moved over to the small group of men gathered by the fire.  
  
Boromir sat down beside Aragorn, the look on his face was grave. He was anxious to get on with this and get Tinuviel back where she belonged. It hurt him to see his Elf friend in pain. "Where is Legolas? I would have thought he would have been the first to arrive."  
  
The frown on Elrond's face deepened. "Yes. I would have thought so as well."  
  
********************  
  
Storming away from Aragorn's room, Arien marched quickly toward Legolas' chamber, muttering to herself. "The high and mighty king has spoken, has he? Well, I wonder what the grieving husband would think? I must go, Tinuviel's life depends on it, I'm certain." She rounded the corner and strode up to Legolas' door, knocking heavily on the burnished wood.  
  
To her surprise, the door swung free into the room, having not been latched when the last person left. "Legolas?" she called as she walked slowly through the door. But once she was inside she knew he was not there. The clothes he had worn, still wet from the search, lay strewn about the floor showing how quickly the Elf had changed. It occurred to her that she must have missed him on his way to the meeting. "Well, I'll just have to invite myself to the meeting," she said aloud to no one as she turned to leave the room.  
  
She did not know what caused her to look at the bed, still perfectly made and turned back for the bride and groom. In the center of the forest green coverlet was a ball of paper. It drew her back into the room and she crossed the distance to the bed in an almost trancelike state. Reaching out, she picked up the ball of paper and began to carefully unwind it.  
  
It took some effort not to tear the parchment as she pulled it away from itself but she soon had it open and was flattening it against the coverlet, smoothing it with the side of her hand, trying not to smudge the dark ink any more than it had already been smeared. The words on it were written in Elvish, a language she was just learning to speak. It took a bit to decipher what they said. It might have been easier to take it to someone, but she wanted to know what it said first. "Come home. Come alone, or I will kill her. You know where to find me." The meaning of the note and Legolas' hasty departure did not immediately present itself, but then she realized that he had gone ahead, alone. Clutching the paper in her hand, she ran as swiftly as she could to Elrond's chambers.  
  
**************************  
  
Thranduil had received news of his nephew's treachery as he was searching the river's bank for his new daughter's body. He was relieved to know that she still lived, but it was a hollow victory. If Aldan had taken her into the darker reaches of Mirkwood, they may never see the beautiful young girl again. He went straight to Elrond's chambers, followed closely by Gimli, who had been searching with him.  
  
The two entered Elrond's chamber, still dirty and wet from their search of the farther banks, but willing to do anything needed to help find Tinuviel. The question of the hour, however, was 'Where is Legolas?'  
  
As the men sat to await the bridegroom, they were startled when a breathless Arien burst into the room. "He's gone," she announced. "He has gone alone."  
  
"What?" Aragorn was out of his chair and across the floor in an instant, grabbing the girl by the shoulders. "What do you mean he has gone?"  
  
Arien held out the paper and he took it, reading the elegant Elven script. His face was unreadable, but she could tell he was very displeased. "It seems he has gone on without us." Aragorn crossed the room and handed the paper to Elrond.  
  
Elrond read the paper aloud. "Come home. Come alone, or I will kill her. You know where to find me." He looked over at Thranduil. "Legolas cannot take the chance that he will do exactly that, but I fear he is in grave danger. Come home, we knew Aldan had taken Tinuviel to Mirkwood from the information Arien gave us while she was sleepwalking, but what does he mean by 'You know where to find me'?"  
  
Thranduil frowned. "When Aldan and Legolas were young boys, they often ventured into the farthest reaches of Mirkwood. Before the darkness crawled into the forest. But Legolas does not know what he will face now, it is long since he has been home. A darkness once again stains our beautiful forest and I fear that his quest will be hopeless."  
  
Gimli stood, his hand on his axe. "Then we shall make certain it is not hopeless."  
  
Aragorn smiled down at the now Dwarf King that had been befriended by Legolas those many years ago. "My friend, Gimli, we have great need for speed and I know your dislike of horses."  
  
The Dwarf squared his shoulders. "If Legolas is in need I will ride, on my own horse if necessary."  
  
Boromir clapped him on the shoulder. "My horse can carry two, he is strong and swift." He turned to Gandalf. "What of you, friend Wizard?"  
  
Gandalf turned away from the fire he had been gazing into. "I will not ride with you, but I will be there."  
  
They had all fought beside Gandalf, more than once. If he said he would be there, then he would be there."  
  
"Then it is settled," Elrond nodded. "The three of you must ride as quickly as you can after Legolas. He will not stop to rest until his horse needs to so you may only be a few hours to a day behind him, but you must leave now."  
  
Arien stood there, hands on hips, as she watched the three of them walk out the door. "What about me?"  
  
Aragorn turned back to her, his face a stony mask. "I told you that you will not be going and that is final. Stay here and pray that we might not be too late to save both Legolas and Tinuviel." He did not wait for her to answer, instead walking out the door, closing it behind him.  
  
It was not long before the three of them were on their way out of Rivendell. They had wine and waterskins enough, some waybread, hard cheese, and cured meat, and Elrond had given each of them a flask of Miruvor, with two more flasks for Legolas and Tinuviel when they found them. Tucking their cloaks back to allow for the warmness of the early afternoon, they set off down the road as quickly as their horses would carry them.  
  
Arien watched from the cover of the trees as the men departed, leaving her behind. There was something in her mind, in her very heart, that told her she must go with them, she had to help Tinuviel in any way she could. She wondered why it would weigh so heavily on her soul to help someone she had never even met, but she just knew deep within herself that Tinuviel's life depended on her.  
  
Slipping as quietly as she could to the paddock, she found her saddle and called the horse she had been riding since Rohan to her. It was a beautiful gray mare named Graydawn. Holding her hand out, she let the gentle animal nuzzle at her hand.  
  
Just as she was about to open the gate, she heard footsteps behind her. Turning quickly she saw Gandalf and Elrond emerging from the woods. "Well, now. It seems we have a runaway." Elrond's mouth curled into a smile."  
  
"Rather a tag-along, I believe," Gandalf joked as they moved closer to her.  
  
Arien steeled herself. She was going and no one was going to stop her. "I have to go. I don't care if I have to go by myself."  
  
Gandalf nodded, a serious look on his face. "Yes. I quite agree."  
  
"No!" She protested. "You don't understand. I know that I have never even met this woman but I know I have to protect her." Then she realized what Gandalf had said. "What?"  
  
Ignoring her question, Elrond frowned. "I thought as much." He handed her a pack. "You may need this." Then handed her a scabbard on a finely crafted leather belt. "I assume you know how to use a sword?"  
  
Arien nodded silently, not quite certain she wasn't losing her mind. "So you think my going is a good idea?"  
  
Calling Shadowfax to him, Gandalf let the spirited stallion out of the paddock. "Yes. You must go, just as I must go for it is the way it is supposed to be." Grabbing Shadowfax's mane, he swung himself up onto his back and held his hand out for Arien. "But we have a different road to travel, the way is long and if we are to get there in time we must let Shadofax lead the way. Will you trust me?"  
  
Arien knew instinctively that she could trust this man. "I trust you." Grabbing on to his hand, she swung up behind him on the large stallion.  
  
"Be careful, my friends," Elrond stepped back, holding his hand up in farewell, "and bring everyone back safe." But even as he spoke there was a shadow on his heart and he knew that not everyone would come back unscathed.  
  
Shadowfax found his way through to the road and then took off like the wind. Air rushed past them and Arien clung ever more tightly to Gandalf's waist. The Wizard chuckled and patted her hand. "Fear not, Arien," he said over the whistling of the wind. "Shadowfax will not allow any harm to come to you, nor will I." 


	11. Tinuviel's Rescue: Into Mirkwood

Author's Note: This chapter is responsible for the R rating. It deals with mature themes and situations such as rape and violence. It also deals with a very unstable elf. Do not read if you are sensitive to any of these subjects.  
  
The world was moving when Tinuviel awoke. She found herself bound at the hands and gagged, sitting astride a horse in a human saddle with a large body behind her. It had to be one of the humans that had her for no Elf felt that large nor rode that heavily. It didn't take long to realize they must have drugged her when they had finally camped. Punishment, no doubt, for trying to run off. She could still feel the sting of the blow that had landed against her cheek when the man caught her, stumbling through the woods.   
  
Coughing at the gag in her mouth and wishing she had some water to cool her throat, she blinked her bleary eyes and looked around. They were entering into a more densely wooded area. *This must be Mirkwood* she thought, and thought it aptly named because the sunlight barely filtered through the already heavy leaved canopy above them. And somewhere deep inside the forest she could feel evil residing, sending its taint skittering along with the leaves that blew across the forest floor. It was hard, almost impossible, for her to picture Legolas here in this dark place.  
  
"Ah, you are awake, I see." Tinuviel jerked her head around to look toward Aldan's voice, swaying slightly from the sudden spur of dizziness that swept through her. He laughed when he saw her trying to stay awake, the effects of the drug still making themselves known through her system. "I trust there will be no further attempts to escape?" Knowing she could not answer for the gag in her mouth, he chuckled and urged his horse forward to the head of the group.  
  
The drug they had given her was strong and Tinuviel felt herself drifting in and out of sleep. She could not have said how long they had been riding before they finally emerged into an area without trees. The ruins of a large tower loomed in the bright light of the waning moon. "Dol Guldur." The man's deep voice reverberated through his thick chest. She could hear the awe in his voice and some half remembered memory stirred itself. She knew this was not a good place.  
  
The small group began to make camp in the ruins and other men and creatures came out of the darkness to meet them. Other than Aldan and the two Elves with him, there were no other Elves to be seen. But even though there were only 3 Elves, there were at least a half dozen men and another half dozen orcs. There would be no way a lone Elf could stand against them all, even if he brought Boromir and Aragorn with him they would fail. The hopelessness of her situation began to sink in and she wished she'd been a hair faster jumping off the cliff into the falls.  
  
The man she had been riding with jumped off his horse and lifted her easily off the saddle, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her like a sack inside the ruins to a small room that was still standing. Without a word, he dropped her in the corner and left, moving a heavy wooden door into place and throwing the bolt from the outside and leaving her bound, gagged, and alone in the dark.  
  
As her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness of the chamber and the effects of the drug she had been given began to lessen, she realized that part of the upper floor and wall were missing, letting in a beam of silver moonlight. There were no windows in the walls, only the hole in the ceiling, but at least it was something to break the darkness. Getting herself awkwardly to her feet, she managed to hold onto the wall with her bound hands and walk, shakily, to the shaft of light.  
  
As she reached the light, her legs gave out and she dropped to the floor, sitting now in the pale moonbeam. She looked up through the hole in the ruined tower and the moon seemed so large, filling the whole space of the opening with it's vanishing face. If she remembered correctly, the moon was just beginning to wane the night of her wedding, it was now down to almost half, so they must have been traveling for about five days. It flickered through her mind to wonder how far behind Legolas was, for surely he would come after her. She wished with every fibre of her being that she could warn him away, keep him safe.  
  
Tinuviel looked around the room and saw it must have, at one time, been a storeroom for the tower. There were a few broken barrels and cut outs in the heavy stone where ice would have been kept to keep things cool in the summer months. A broken table lay on it's side against one wall and there was dry straw strewn about the floor. Other than that, there was nothing else in the room except her. She was utterly alone and she may die here, alone in this forsaken place, never having seen her husband's beautiful face again.  
  
Lifting her numb, bound hands to her mouth, she tried to remove the gag but it was knotted tightly behind her neck and there was a knot in the fabric that nearly filled her mouth. Her jaws ached and she could taste blood as the fabric began to cut into the soft flesh of her mouth. Giving up any hope of removing the gag, she let her hands fall heavily into her lap, trying to flex the fingers and finding even that small movement painful. Unable to help herself, she began to sob silently, tears rolling down her face. Curling on her side, she lay down in the light of the moon and cried until the remainders of the drug coursing through her system took hold of her again and sent her into a heavy sleep.  
  
*********************  
  
As Legolas passed through the outer trees of Mirkwood, he jumped down off of Arod. The horse was tired, his sides heaving from the exertion of carrying his rider as quickly as he possibly could. Legolas had stopped along the way, long enough for his old friend to rest, but Arod had pushed himself without Legolas asking.   
  
Legolas ran a hand down Arod's face, laying his cheek against the old horse's neck. "I'm sorry, my friend, but I must go on alone." Arod nickered and pawed at the ground with his hooves, butting his head against his master's shoulder. Smiling, Legolas stroked his graying coat. "I must use the trees, old friend. They will be looking for me to come on horseback." He ran his hand over the horse's soft nose. "And the woods are far too perilous now," he looked around him, frowning. "I sense an evil here the like of which I have not felt since Sauron's minions were driven into the black valley." He turned back to the horse and gave him a light slap on the shoulder. "Find a safe resting place by the river. When I return with Tinuviel, I will find you." Arod looked at him, whinnying for a moment before finally dropping his head and turning away. Legolas watched him go and wondered if he'd ever see him again.   
  
He made certain the horse was safely away before dropping back into the trees, making himself as invisible as he could. Legolas could not believe Aldan had many Elves helping him in this. He knew from Arien's sleepwalking vision that he had at least two, but there couldn't be many more. Still, before he found the note on his bed, he never would have believed Aldan capable of such malicious deceit. But Elves or not, he would have some sort of army, even if it was just a band of humans and orcs. Aldan was not the type to fight his own battles.   
  
Regardless of how many men his cousin had with him, Mirkwood was Legolas' home and he knew these woods well. He also knew exactly where Aldan would have taken Tinuviel, to the ruined tower of Dol Guldur. All Legolas had to do was get there, rescue his bride, and make it back alive. The Elves could be a fairly optimistic race, but Legolas was having a hard time staying optimistic about his current situation.  
  
****************************  
  
Boromir sighed, taking a drink from the waterskin they had filled at the last clear running spring they had come across. "Do you truly believe we will catch him?"  
  
Taking the water skin from Boromir, Gimli growled. He had been on the horse with Boromir for a week now, more time than he cared to spend on a horse, and his backside was protesting loudly. "Why could he not have waited for us?"  
  
Aragorn was about to answer when he saw a swift movement through the trees. Suddenly alert after the lengthy and hasty journey, he pulled his bow off his saddle and an arrow from his quiver, notching it against the bowstring and sitting at the ready for any further sign of movement. The others had drawn their swords and were shooting furtive glances into the thick woods. Aragorn turned quickly when he heard someone speaking behind him.  
  
"He did not wait for you because he was told to come alone." Aragorn turned to find Legolas standing there, an angry look on his face. "And I knew that I could go more quietly alone. Why did you follow?"  
  
Letting out the breath he had been holding, Aragorn released the tension on his bow and replaced the arrow in its quiver. "You know we could not let you go into this alone, Legolas. You must know it is a trap."  
  
"What does it matter if it is a trap?" Legolas asked calmly. "This is about saving Tinuviel's life, not mine."  
  
Still grumbling, Gimli jumped down from the horse and marched over to look up at his friend. "And what if we choose to save both?"  
  
"It is more complicated than that."  
  
The dwarf put his hands on his hips. "And I suppose you no longer trust us as warriors?"  
  
Legolas sighed heavily. "You know that is not true, but he said he would kill her if I did not come alone."  
  
Boromir, who had remained silent until now, jumped down from his horse and walked to where Gimli and Legolas stood next to Aragorn's horse. "Do you truly believe that if you go there, alone, and he kills you, that he will allow her to go free just because you kept your end of the bargain?"  
  
"No." Legolas shook his head sadly. "But I see no reason for any more of the people I love to die."  
  
Aragorn dismounted, coming to stand with his small group of friends. He clamped a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "I assure you, we have no intention of dying."  
  
Legolas studied their faces, he knew they intended to stay whether he gave them leave to do so or no. Well, they would be safer, and less likely to draw attention to themselves, with him than without. "If you insist on going you will have to set the horses free. They can find shelter with Arod by the river."  
  
*******************************  
  
Arien sighed in relief as Shadowfax slowed to a halt. They had been riding for days, stopping only for the briefest periods of time to allow for sleep and then they were off again. The two had ridden the lightening fast horse around the outer edge of Mirkwood to the north and down the eastern side until Gandalf was certain it was safe to enter the dark woods.  
  
"Are we there?" Arien asked as Gandalf helped her to the ground, then dismounted himself.  
  
"We are where we need to be." He saw the frustrated look on Arien's face and smiled. "It will not be much longer, Arien, but you must be patient."  
  
Arien rolled her head from side to side, trying to loosen the tension tightened muscles of her shoulders. "It is hard to be patient when I do not even fully comprehend why I am so compelled to help this girl."  
  
The wizard lay a callused hand against her cheek. "I know, child. This world is such an uncertain place, especially for you and Tinuviel, foundlings as you are, not knowing your past, not understanding your future. But your heart is good, Arien. Let it be your guide, even though it may not always lead you down the easiest path."  
  
Arien sighed heavily and sat down on a large rock, taking her waterskin out and drinking a bit as Gandalf lifted their meager bundle down from the horse. He gave Shadowfax a pat on the neck and spoke something into his ear, and the horse was off. To where she did not know, but she knew well enough that he would return whenever Gandalf called him.   
  
The two of them settled themselves for a rest as night fell, finding shelter in a small, shallow cave. They did not risk a fire, but the night was warm and they had a dim, easily cancelable light from the glow of Gandalf's staff. Arien lay, her head pillowed on the pack she had carried, covered in her traveling cloak, listening to the sounds of distant thunder. She fell asleep as the rain began to fall.  
  
******************  
  
Legolas and his small party had been traveling for two days. It had not been easy going, having to move undetected through the heavy wood. There were times they had been forced to change directions to avoid patrols of humans and orcs. This, more than anything else, told them they were getting closer, they were almost there. Legolas was becoming ever more anxious. It was no more than a day's march from where they now stood to the ruins of Dol Guldur and he could almost feel the closeness of his bride. His heart constricted in his chest, he wanted nothing more to hold her in his arms again and hear her whisper his name, the sound of her voice washing over him like water over the stones of the river.  
  
"Soon, my friend. We shall find your bride." Boromir came to stand beside Legolas, looking out into the dark woods.   
  
"And when we do, I shall kill Aldan." There was something like a sad defeat in his voice.  
  
Boromir frowned, wondering at the tone in his voice. "And is that not the justice he deserves?"  
  
"It is much less than what he deserves," Legolas said quietly.  
  
"Then why do you seem so saddened by the prospect?"  
  
Legolas was silent a moment before answering, not looking at Boromir but out into the woods, seeing shapes and creatures in the dark that the human could not. "I have never taken the life of another Elf, nor have I ever wished to. And Aldan is my cousin, the same blood flows in our veins, but I want nothing more than to see him dead. I find that part of my heart has become cold and hard in the short journey here, the part that remembers playing with Aldan as a child. He was like a brother to me and the next time I see him, one of us will die." He turned to his friend and smiled sadly. "Selfish though it may be, it is not for him that I am saddened, it is for myself."  
  
Boromir put a hand on his shoulder. "You are only doing what is right, Legolas. You know that."  
  
"Knowing a thing does not make the task easy." Legolas looked back to where Aragorn and Gimli were sleeping, taking refuge from the coming storm under the low hanging boughs of a group of large pine trees. "Go back and continue your rest, I will take the watch tonight."  
  
"Come take shelter with us, Legolas. We shall both watch from the cover of the trees."  
  
*************************  
  
Tinuviel sat in the corner where she had made her bed, watching the rain as it began to fall steadily through the hole in the ceiling. She had been here for three days, or possibly four. She was certain they had been giving her small doses of the drug they had used on the trip to Mirkwood in her water, but she had no choice but to drink it. Still, she tried to drink as little as she could. Her hands were still tied, though they had loosened the bonds enough that some of the feeling had returned to her fingers. And even though her voice was all but gone, they continued to keep her gagged, removing it only three times a day to let her drink.  
  
None of her captors had spoken to her since they had thrown her into this makeshift prison, and she had no idea what they planned to do with her. Whatever it was, they must want her alive. Why else would they even bother with the water. But the fact they seemed to want her alive did not lighten her heart. The only thing that kept her going was the thought that somehow she might be rescued and might be in Legolas' arms again.  
  
It startled her when the door opened. It had only been a short time since they had last come to give her water, and usually there was quite a long stretch between the last drink of the evening and the first of the day. Blinking her eyes, she tried to make out who might be entering the room. As if in answer to her question, he spoke. "Tinuviel. I trust you are finding your accommodations comfortable."  
  
*Aldan. The bastard himself.* If Tinuviel had not been gagged, she would have spat at him.  
  
Aldan chuckled, seeing the contempt in her eyes. "Oh, good. I see you still have some spark left in you after all." Dropping down into a crouch, bringing him to her eye level, he smirked at her. "I was afraid you might be one of those simpering, human women who know only how to busy their hands with needle work and produce squalling babies."  
  
If she had been able, she would have told him exactly what she thought of him. Moving closer to her, he reached a hand behind her and she pulled away, pushing herself against a wall.  
  
"Do you enjoy wearing the gag?" She finally shook her head grudgingly. "Then come here and let me remove it."  
  
She leaned forward a bit, trying to keep an eye on him at all times as he loosened the knot that held the gag in place. Tinuviel sighed a heavy sigh of relief as the knotted material fell free from her mouth. Her jaws ached, the skin on the sides of her mouth was raw and red, and being gagged for many days, plus whatever drug they were giving her, had stripped away her voice. Taking a drink of the tainted water, she cleared her throat. Her voice was little more than a husky whisper as she spoke. "You Bastard! What do you intend to do with me?"  
  
Aldan chuckled as he continued to look at her. "Well, I intend to deliver you to The Master. But that is later. For now, I have other plans."  
  
He acted quickly, his hand reaching out to grab her bound hands before she could even react to what he had said. Suddenly, it became quite clear what he intended. Struggle as she may, his was the far superior strength. It didn't take much for him to pull her hands over her head and secure them to a rung that was set in the wall.  
  
"No!" she pleaded, still struggling, pulling at the bonds of her hands until she could feel blood running down her forearms and kicking out with her feet, until he captured them and began to spread her legs, settling himself between her creamy white thighs. In this position there was no way to fight him, even though she tried.  
  
"Spirited even when you have no hope of winning. Interesting." Aldan cupped his hands over the mounds of her breasts, laughing when she turned her face away in disgust. "No need for that just yet" Sliding his hands down her sides, he gathered the skirts of her dress in his hands and pulled them up to her belly exposing the silky undergarments she had donned for her wedding night. "Pretty," he said, as he stroked his hand over the soft fabric covering her.   
  
Tinuviel struggled, trying to move away, trying to kick at him, anything that would make him stop but the water he had given her had been laced with a larger dosage of the drug than usual, and she found that she was not able to fight as well as she normally might. She tried to cry out, but her voice was stifled, making them sound like no more than pitiful mewlings that seemed to excite him the more she struggled. Taking the silver dagger from his boot, Aldan cut into the soft, silken fabric, slitting it up one side and then the other until he could remove it completely, exposing her.  
  
Hot tears flowed down her face and she squeezed her eyes shut as he stared openly at her exposed body. She could not see him, but she felt his movements, knew that he was loosening the fastenings of his pants. In the dark she cried, her heart in agony, as he pressed the head of his shaft against her, spreading her legs apart until they ached. "I will enjoy taking this from him." With that malicious statement, he drove himself into her, ripping through her maidenhead, destroying the last bit of innocence left to her.   
  
The scream that tore from her did not sound remotely human. Born from some depth inside her she never knew existed, the sound of it shook the walls, startling Aldan with it's intensity. She had no idea how far the cry carried. But it was a fleeting thing, gone almost before it began to be replaced by broken sobs and hoarse cries for the man she loved.   
  
When Aldan was finished with her, he moved away, cleaning himself with the hem of her wedding gown. When he had righted his clothes, he loosed her from the wall and replaced the gag. As he was finishing the knot, he leaned close to her, his mouth hovering next to her ear. "I never dreamed you were still a maiden." He brushed his knuckles over the rise of her cheek. From the sound of his voice he sounded incredibly pleased with himself. "I had intended to allow my lieutenants to use you until we delivered you to the Master, but I think I shall keep you for myself until then."   
  
He stood and walked briskly to the door, shutting and locking it behind him. Pushing the hem of her skirt down, Tinuviel pushed herself back into her corner and cried hard, wracking sobs that left her drained and left her throat aching.   
  
********************  
  
Arien was wakened to find Gandalf kneeling over her, concern on his face, a scream caught in her throat. The images she had seen were beginning to fade, but the sound of Tinuviel's scream still echoed in her ears. Breathless, she sat up and clutched at her skirt. "He raped her. That bastard raped her."  
  
Gandalf closed his eyes, the look on his face pained, and sat back, leaning his back against the stone wall of the small cave. Eyes still closed, he said something in a language that Arien could not understand. When he opened his eyes again, they gleamed with unshed tears. "We will go in at first light."  
  
********************  
  
Legolas watched the rain as it came steadily down, making the branches and leaves of the trees sing. He had just stood to make a pass around the small fort of trees where they had sheltered when he felt, more than heard, a scream echoing through the night. The force of it vibrated through him, shaking his very bones, and he had to throw his hand out to steady himself against a tree. He knew without a doubt that it was Tinuviel.   
  
It marveled Legolas that he seemed to be the only one that heard the cry, as loud as it still sounded in his ears, but then again, he knew it would be impossible to hear a scream from Dol Guldur here, especially during a rainstorm. Just as it would be impossible to hear someone singing from Rivendell when you were camped miles away. Only he could hear it, for he was connected to her, his heart to hers, his soul to hers. Leaning his back against the tree trunk, he slid down to sit on the ground, drawing strength from the tree. He brought a hand to his heart as the strange feeling began to pass. He knew what he had felt had been from Tinuviel. He also knew that she was in great pain. Closing his eyes, he felt tears spill over the edges of his lashes, dropping down his face to stain the front of his tunic. He whispered into the night. "I am coming, indonya. Hold on."  
  
AN: This chapter mentions being able to hear someone singing from miles away. This was a little snippet of a scene I thought of after I'd put together a manipulated photo that I titled Longing from Afar. It is set after Tinuviel is taken to Rivendell but before she and Legolas get married and before Aragorn and Boromir find Arien. Hope you like it.  
  
Aragorn looked over to where Legolas was sitting on a rock across the fire from them. He was not participating in the dinner conversation, instead he was gazing toward the north. Aragorn chuckled a little at the faraway look in his friend's face and looking at Boromir saw that he too had noticed the elf's uncharacteristic distraction of late. "Ah, behold, Boromir," he said in a loud whisper, "Legolas looks to Rivendell. I fear he has no love of our company any longer."  
  
Boromir nodded, a mockingly grave look on his face. "I fear you are right, Aragorn," he whispered huskily. "We have lost him to a woman. Perhaps we should find another elf to accompany us, this one seems to have lost all his senses." He smiled at his own joke.  
  
The corner of Legolas' mouth kicked up but he continued to look north. "I can hear you. My ears are as keen as ever they were, I have just not found anything worth listening to." Still smiling, he turned back to the fire and his friends. "You will both ever be my friends, but she is far fairer to look on and her voice is more pleasing to my ears," he wrinkled his nose, "and she smells much sweeter."  
  
Aragorn laughed heartily, handing the tall elf a flagon of ale to share with their supper of rabbit and potatoes roasted over the fire. "We could all use a bath and a warm bed to sleep in. I for one will be happy to make it to an inn soon." He tore off a chunk of the savory meat and gestured toward the general direction of Rivendell. "And does she also think on you while you are gone?"  
  
Legolas took a small dagger and cut some meat from one of the two rabbits he had shot for their supper. They did not often hunt for their food, but they had been away from a town longer than expected and their rations had gone low. "I cannot say. But I sometimes think I hear her voice on the wind, calling to me. It pleases me to believe she may be thinking on me at those times."  
  
"Ach, you are lost," Boromir scoffed. "Save me from lovesick elves." He took the flagon and drank before passing it back to Aragorn.  
  
"Leave him be, Boromir," Aragorn said as he took the flagon and drank some of the ale, letting it warm his weary bones. "It may happen one day that you too shall lose your heart."  
  
The larger man snorted goodnaturedly. "I've seen what it does to a man to lose his heart. I shall keep tight hold on mine." 


	12. Tinuviel's Rescue: Fight the Good Fight

A/N - THANKS so much to the people who have reviewed: Chook, luminous ONE, Shallan, and Indil Elondili! I really appreciate it (I know this is kind of a quirky story and format)! And fear not, I have no intention of killing Legolas off :-D  
  
As always, big THANKS to my sis, Arien, without whom I would never have had the courage to put any of my writing up for other people to read.  
  
The morning brought a gray dawn, but the rain continued. Tinuviel lay curled in a ball in the corner of her cell, watching as the water dripped through the ceiling and splattered on the stone floor to flow down to the holes cut deep in the stone floor. Already they were overflowing, it would not take many more days of rain before the whole room was flooded. Tinuviel could not muster the enthusiasm to care overmuch. If it would not have taken too much effort, and more courage than she had at the moment, she would have drowned herself in the water already collected in the room.  
  
Hope had fled and had taken her will with it. Legolas was not coming, he was probably even now laying dead in this accursed excuse for a forest. The taint of evil was thick, she could feel it's filthy tendrils crawling over her skin leaving her feeling unclean. When the heavy door of the cell swung open, Tinuviel did not even bother raising her head, she did not care who it was.  
  
"I know you are awake." Aldan's voice echoed through the dim chamber, but Tinuviel did not stir. "Do not make it harder on you than it must be." Aldan strode forward and pulled her up by her bound hands to stand before him. The bonds cut into the flesh of her wrists, but she no longer cared. She did not cower, there was nothing more he could do to her. But neither did she rage. There was no use. She had no weapon and her voice had been silenced, there was nothing she could do now but await her fate.  
  
Aldan smiled at her defeat, evil and self satisfied and looking more like a demon than an Elf. In fact, Tinuviel thought, he did not deserve to count himself among the fair people she had come to know and love. In that moment she hated him with every fiber of her being and if she could have had one wish granted at this moment it would be for him to die a slow and painful death. Her hate must have shown in her eyes because his smile faltered ever so slightly. "Come on, then. Time to be on our way." Grabbing her roughly by the arm, he pulled her out of the room beside him.  
  
Outside the dark tower ruin, Aldan's horse was waiting, already laden with provisions for the trip they were taking. Tinuviel noticed there was only the one horse, apparently the two of them were going alone, and he didn't trust her to ride by herself. Easily lifting her up, he settled her on the horse and jumped up behind her. "After you take care of our visitors, follow."  
  
It irked Aldan that he would not personally be the one to finally end Legolas' life, he had waited so long for just this moment, but The Master wanted his property and it was up to Aldan to deliver the human girl to Mordor. For what he was offering Aldan, power beyond his wildest dreams, he could afford to let this slide, especially knowing he took the one thing from Legolas that would hurt him the most. As they rode south toward Mordor, leaving Dol Guldur and Mirkwood far behind, Aldan could not help but gloat a bit. "I'm afraid you will be a widow soon, my dear. But, no worry, I'm sure we can make other arrangements." As disgusted as she was by Aldan, the one bit of information that Tinuviel clung to was the fact that Legolas was not dead. If he was alive, then there was yet hope, and she would not let him down again.   
  
********************************  
  
Legolas roused everyone as soon as dawn began peeking over the edge of the wood. Not that it made it any easier to see under the heavy canopy of trees and the steady fall of rain. But he knew it was morning, and it was time. Leaning over, he shook Boromir's shoulder. "It is morning, we must go now." He did likewise with Aragorn and Gimli, each rousing almost immediately and making himself ready for battle.  
  
The closer they moved toward Dol Guldur, the more evil creatures they encountered. Huge snakes and spiders, though none as large as they once had been, their kind had been driven from Mirkwood forever, thank goodness. And some creatures that never saw the light of day and had no names by which those of the sunlit world knew them. But despite all that lay in their path, they made their way to Dol Guldur without hesitation. When they did not meet any patrols along the way, they knew they would be expected. The question was, would they be strong enough to emerge victorious? Would they be in time to save Tinuviel?  
  
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Gandalf and Arien could neither one go back to sleep. Instead they sat there, silent, waiting for daybreak so that they might ride into battle with the others. The rain continued steadily and the only indication that morning had arrived was a hazy grayness that replaced the black gloom of night.   
  
Heedless of the rain, Gandalf gathered together their packs and called for Shadowfax. The loyal horse came without hesitation, and soon enough the two of them were off, riding now into the darkest heart of the wood.   
  
Arien could feel nothing but evil all around her, and held more tightly to Gandalf. Whenever thoughts of Tinuviel and what the poor girl had endured entered her mind, her hand would itch for the hilt of her sword. She wanted revenge, justice for the girl she didn't even know and yet knew more than she could understand. As they moved ever closer, she could see things in the gloom that she did not want to know, hear things she did not want to think about. If they all made it out of this alive it would be a miracle indeed.  
  
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The rain fell hard on the trampled earth surrounding the fallen tower making it into a mire, a sucking bog that made movement difficult at best. The small contingent of humans and orcs led by the remaining two Elves waited anxiously for the first attack.   
  
They struck just before dawn, under the cover of the twilight. Arrows flying through the brightening sky, meeting their marks with deadly accuracy. But the small band of rescuers did not have the element of surprise for long. Three orcs and a human were down, but that still left them outnumbered nearly three to one. It didn't matter. If it had been a hundred to one they would still have fought.  
  
And fight they did. When the arrows were exhausted, they moved forward and engaged with blades. It was a bloody battle, and dirty, the mud sucking at their feet as they tried to move, tried to gain some advantage, but there was none to be had. They fought long and hard and at the moment it seemed they would fail, a light brightened in the darkness. From behind them shone a blinding light. The wind carried with it the sound of a thundering voice and the ground trembled. The small band of friends turned, and what they saw gave them hope. Gandalf stood, shining bright in the darkness of the forest, his hands upraised, the howling winds swirling around him making his mane of white hair seem an ethereal veil floating about his head. Strong and terrible he stood, holding his staff in one hand and his sword, glowing blue, in the other. "Evil shall not prevail here this day."  
  
As if buoyed up by unseen hands, the fellowship moved forward, ever more determined to fight and win. Gandalf joined into the fight, his magic exploding all around them. From the darkness of the forest, like a shining, avenging angel, Arien came riding forward, Shadowfax plunging into the fray with no fear. Holding tightly to Shadowfax's mane, the sword Elrond had gifted her with was brandished high, slashing down at the enemy with vengeance and cold anger. Blood, red and black, stained the bottom of her dress in an abstract pattern of violence, but she did not care. Every ounce of hatred she had felt growing within her since she had felt Tinuviel's pain was visited upon whomever stood in her way.  
  
The fight raged on until none stood but Legolas and his band of friends. They were dirty, covered in mud and muck, blood and gore, but there was a feeling of satisfaction, accomplishment. Hesitating for just a moment, Legolas looked around at his friend, whole and alive, and was thankful to the gods that he could count himself so lucky as to be blessed with such a band of brothers. Without a word, for none was needed, he ran forward into Dol Guldur, searching for Tinuviel.  
  
Jumping down from Shadowfax, her sword still in her hand, Arien strode forward into the gathering of men. The first thing she noticed was the anger flashing in Aragorn's eyes. "Did I not expressly forbid you to leave Rivendell? You have no business here, you could easily have been killed."  
  
Arien's eyes flashed green fire. "As could you, any of you might have died. It is my life, my choice and you have no say in it."  
  
Aragorn looked as if he might say more, but he was stayed by Gandalf's hand. "No, Aragorn. She is here because she is needed. She belongs here as much as you or I."  
  
Unable to argue with the ancient wizard, Aragorn ground his teeth together, the anger he felt did not lessen with the wizard's wise words. "As you say, Gandalf."  
  
The tension of the circle was fierce, the heat of the battle they had waged still flowing in their veins. It was as if everyone was wrapped in some unseen force that they waited to be released from. In truth, they waited for some sign of Tinuviel, that she was alive or dead.  
  
All eyes turned toward the ruined tower as Legolas exited the dark mass of tumbled stone and suddenly the force that held them was dissipated. There was no longer any sense of tension or readiness to do battle. There was nothing but weariness and sorrow. Head held low, Legolas came forward, a scrap of Tinuviel's dress in his hands, dirty, bloodstained. "She is not here." His voice, normally so lyrical, so resonant, seemed hollow and distant to their ears. "She is gone." Dropping the scrap of material onto the dying fire, he turned toward the edge of the trees.  
  
Aragorn turned to follow his friend, to offer him some modicum of comfort, but he was stayed by Boromir's hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps, just now, it would be better if he were alone."  
  
It hurt them all to see the defeat in Legolas' dark eyes. The utter despair that shone where, a mere week ago, there had been nothing but joy and contentment. How soon the world could turn and that which you loved most could be stolen away. Aragorn knew the pain Legolas was feeling and it hurt him, perhaps more than anyone, that there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help.  
  
Everyone remained silent as they began moving slowly down the road that would lead them out of Mirkwood. Everyone walked, even Gandalf for Shadowfax had been injured in the fight and so was not able to bear a rider. Two horses had been taken from the camp, but they were so frightened they could not be mounted. The small group did not go far, wishing only to be away from the evil that pervaded the area around Dol Guldur. And though Legolas said not one word to anyone as they made camp, he swore that he would never again set foot on the cursed soil of Dol Guldur.  
  
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That night as they slept, an uneasiness flowed through the camp. Nothing that anyone could have named, but none slept well. Legolas kept watch, not even wishing to walk the waking dreamlands of Elves. He felt a pulling, an urge to move, to run, but he did not know the way. Deep in his heart he knew that Tinuviel lived, knew it with every breath in his body, but she could have been a wisp of air for as much good as his knowing did him. And he would no more be able to touch a strand of her hair as he would to catch a wisp of air in his hand.  
  
Deep in the night, in the unnatural darkness of the canopy of trees, Arien turned fitfully in her sleep. Strange images assailed her. Gandalf, ever watchful, lay awake and watched and waited. This was the key, the window he had been waiting for. Arien was the key to finding Tinuviel. Though Aragorn may not have wished to admit it, she was the most important element to bringing Tinuviel back to the husband who loved her.  
  
A dark horse. Two riders, a tall man, a weeping woman, silhouetted against the moon. The land stretching out around them was barren and cold. They rode hard, the horse below them barely carrying their weight as his flanks heaved and his muscles shook from the exertion. All around them was nothing, but ahead, looming in the distance, was a dark, evil, menacing shadow.  
  
Arien screamed as she woke. Struggling against bonds that did not exist. Feeling pains that were not her own. "NO! Please, don't take me there. I'd rather die." Her breath was shallow, her body covered with a sheen of cold perspiration. She felt fear and despair. As her eyes focused she could see everyone hovering around her, wakened from their own restless sleep by her cries.  
  
"Have you had another vision?" Aragorn's blue eyes seemed to flicker with concern, but it was fleeting and quickly concealed.   
  
She searched out Legolas, who sat pensive, waiting, the hope reflected in his eyes almost a tangible thing that made Arien's heart ache, hoping against hope that what she'd seen was more than a wishful dream. "Yes. I have seen them riding across a barren plain." She looked at Gandalf, who, no matter what, seemed always to be one step ahead and completely unsurprised by anything she said. "He's taking her toward Mordor." She chanced a glance at Aragorn, knowing the thoughts he harbored and knowing that he was wondering if this was some sort of trick to lure them into an elaborate trap. She could not thing about that now, her only concern was for Tinuviel now. "Legolas, she is alive and he is taking her toward Mordor. I don't know why, I couldn't see that, but you must go. Now." She grabbed his hand and held it in earnest. "Please trust me."  
  
"I trust you." There was determination in his stride as he gathered one of the horses they had captured. The stallion reared, but Legolas lay a hand on his flank, stroking the other over his wild mane. He murmured something low and the horse began to steady. Grabbing his mane, the nimble Elf swung himself onto the back of the great beast and pulled him away from the others.  
  
"Wait," Boromir called out after him, "You cannot go alone."  
  
Legolas turned back to the company of friends. "I was wrong before, I did need you. And I need you now."  
  
Aragorn and Gimli stood at the side of the horse. "Then wait and let us go with you."  
  
The tall Elf shook his fair head. "No. I need you to go to the river and gather the horses then procure a boat. If... when I find Tinuviel she will need to be taken to Lothlorien. Be my friends, do this for me. Wait for us by the river. Wait for three days. If we are not there, leave a boat and go on to Lorien." He did not wait for an answer and he did not say the good-byes that stuck in his throat. Digging his heels into the horse's sides, he pushed the beast through the trees, heading toward Mordor. 


	13. Tinuviel's Rescue: Finale

A/N: Once again, thanks to my sis LadyArien for her beta skills. And thanks to Lady Riahanna Dragoneye, I'm now accepting anonymous reviews.  
  
The road was hard packed under the horse's feet making the going much easier than it had been as they left Dol Guldur. It was faster for the horse, but harder on Tinuviel as she held tightly as she could to the horse's mane to keep from falling off. Aldan, for his part, seemed unaffected. He drove the horse fast as the poor beast could carry them, never looking behind.  
  
The landscape as far as Tinuviel could see was a barren wasteland and ahead of them loomed a vast darkness. Even though she did not know where they were going, she new she did not want to go there. It was leagues away, yet she could feel the evil permeating the very soil. What scared her more than the fear of the unknown, though, was the feeling that she was being pulled there. Not for the first time since she had been taken, she could feel the tears begin streaming down her face. "Please don't take me there."  
  
She could feel and hear the malice in Aldan's laughter. "But I must, my dear. You see, I am being very well rewarded."  
  
"Why does he want me?" she sobbed, her ruined voice crying piteously, no longer caring about her pride and wanting nothing more than to curl into a ball and die.  
  
His voice was barely a whisper over her shoulder, and his words chilled her to the very marrow. "Because he wants to tap the power inside you. One way or another."  
  
Slowing the poor horse to a stop beside a trickling stream, Aldan jumped lightly down to the ground and pulled Tinuviel with him. He dragged her to the side of the stream, shoving her roughly down onto a blanket he had taken from the pack. "We can rest here for the night."   
  
The horse drank greedily, panting, sweat frothing on his hide. Even in her abused state, or perhaps because of it, she felt keenly sorry for the misused creature. "Someone should rub the horse down before the cold of night hits. If you don't want to do it, at least let me."  
  
The smile on Aldan's face was cold and it made her cringe back in fear. "The horse will sort itself out." He ran a finger down the side of her face and leaned in close, bringing his lips a hairsbreadth away from hers. "I have other plans for you this evening."  
  
As he took her body, Tinuviel focused her eyes on the stars, willing her soul and spirit to fly to meet Earendil in his flight across the sky. She could almost imagine herself gliding back over the dead ground, into the trees of Mirkwood and finding Legolas laying wakeful, watching.  
  
**********************************  
  
Dawn was breaking over the horizon as Legolas led his horse onto the barren plains. There was nothing between he and Tinuviel now but a distance of dead land and he would not stop until Aldan's blood soaked into the dry earth and he held his bride in his arms once again. It was hate and fury that drove him on, and love that kept him steady to his course. No longer did he care how it might change him to kill his cousin, the only thing he cared about was making him pay for the pain he had given Tinuviel. Digging his heels into the horse's side, he pushed the stallion on.  
  
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When Tinuviel awoke that morning, she could sense a change in Aldan. He was quickly packing the horse and when he turned she saw something in his eyes she hadn't seen before. Fear. And that's when she felt it. She knew Legolas was coming after her. A small smile touched her mouth. "Legolas is coming for me," she said softly, her voice still hoarse from the effects of the drug and the gag. "You feel it too."  
  
Setting his face in a mask of stone, Aldan pulled her up roughly by her bound hands. "Legolas is dead, and if by some miracle he is not and he does follow, he will be dead when we meet." But no matter his words, no matter how stern his face, she could still see the fear behind his eyes.  
  
They rode as fast as the horse could carry them, but they were two and their horse was tired and slow. Tinuviel could feel the tension in Aldan as he urged the horse on. It was difficult to stay on the horse as he pushed him faster and faster across the desolate landscape.   
  
As if in some distant dream, she thought she heard the sound of hoofbeats, pounding on the ground behind them. She couldn't turn to look, but she could almost feel Legolas getting closer and her heart began to beat again. Her spirit returned, the fire that Legolas loved so much seemed to have been rekindled and she began to struggle. Between the fatigue of the horse and the nervousness of Aldan, Tinuviel struggled until she pulled loose of Aldan's grasp and jumped from the still moving beast to land in a painful heap on the ground.   
  
The first thing she was aware of when she could think again, was the pain shooting through her shoulder and back. As she painfully pushed herself up into a seated position, she saw Aldan circling back, anger and fury etched on his face. Scrambling up, she tried to run only to be dragged down by the heavy, torn skirts of her dress. When she couldn't run, she crawled, futile though it was.   
  
She had not gotten far when she was jerked up hard by her hair. The pain shot through her head, neck, and shoulder so intensely that she thought she might pass out, and wished she would. But she was not to be given even that comfort. Tears welled in her eyes, hot, angry tears that marked her pain and frustration.   
  
Through a thunder of hoofbeats, Tinuviel heard a voice she had never hoped to hear again but had prayed for against hope. Just the sound of it turned her tears to tears of joy. "LET HER GO, ALDAN!"   
  
Snatching Tinuviel up against him, using her as a shield between himself and Legolas, Aldan sneered at his cousin. "Ah, so you've come for your 'virginal' human bride?" A nasty smirk crossed his face and he ran a finger down Tinuviel's tear stained face. "Well, not quite so virginal now." He gripped her chin tightly in his fingers and turned her face to him, kissing her hard on the mouth. When he released her, Tinuviel spat angrily in his face, wincing in pain when he jerked her bound arms roughly behind her. "Much like a rose, this one. Sweet but thorny."  
  
Anger, rage, and pain coursed through Legolas' veins and he found he was glad he did not have his bow and arrows. He wanted to feel Aldan die, wanted to feel his blood on his hands. His voice was calm when he spoke, but fire flashed in his eyes. "Release her, Aldan."  
  
"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Legolas. You see, I have made a deal with someone. He wants this girl, and I am going to be well rewarded for delivering her." The tall, dark Elf shrugged. "So it appears we are at an impasse." He pulled a silver dagger, which matched the one Legolas carried, from his boot. "But I believe I do have the advantage." He pressed the tip of the blade to her throat sending a small rivulet of blood running down her pale skin. "If you try to stop me again, Legolas, I will have no choice but to kill her."  
  
Legolas kept his hands to his sides, fists clenched hard enough to make his arms shake, it was the only thing that betrayed he was fast losing control. "And what of your new 'friend'?" he sneered at the word. "If he wants Tinuviel, would he not be angry with you for harming her?"  
  
Aldan laughed, the sound cold and cruel and made Tinuviel shudder. "You do not understand, Legolas, my orders are to bring her to him but if I cannot then I am to kill her." He started backing away from Legolas and moved to put the horse and Tinuviel between them as he loaded her onto the beast and climbed on himself.  
  
"You know I cannot let you leave with her Aldan." Legolas edged around, pulling the dagger from his boot as his cousin climbed onto the poor beast he had been riding.  
  
"I am afraid you have no choice, my dear cousin. I am sorry I'll not be able to see you die, but such is the way of life." Turning the horse back toward Mordor, Aldan made the mistake of baring his back to Legolas. In that split second, Legolas let fly the dagger, feeling a great deal of satisfaction when the silver blade buried itself to the hilt in his cousin's back.  
  
Aldan's face held a look of surprise as he fell from the horse, taking Tinuviel with him. Falling off the horse for a second time jarred Tinuviel's already painful shoulder, and Aldan's blade had left a bleeding line from her throat down to her breast, but she didn't care. Fighting her body's desire to go unconscious, she pulled herself away from the dying elf.  
  
Legolas ran to her, dropping down onto his knees next to her and pulling her into his arms. She did not even heed the pain that shot through her. "I didn't think you would find me," she sobbed into his shoulder, gripping his tunic with her still bound hands.  
  
"Shhh," Legolas stroked her tangled hair with his strong hand, his voice strained with emotion. "I'm going to take you somewhere safe." He looked over at the prone form of his cousin. "He'll not hurt you anymore." He was almost relieved when she fell into unconsciousness. Pulling the dagger from Aldan's back and gathering up the matching one his cousin had at one time carried, he left the body to the carrion birds. He felt somehow cheated that he had not been able to feel the life steal from Aldan's body, but at the same time he was relieved. It was enough that Aldan was dead and Tinuviel was safe once more. Gently lifting Tinuviel onto the horse, he cradled her in his arms as they slowly made their way to the river and Lothlorien. 


End file.
